#i don't know any other candles but I hope it's this one :3

[osc-stimz]

COULD YOU MAYBE DO A CANDLE STIMBOARD PLEASE?? ^^

Candle II Stimboard for Anon !

[satellite-evans]

you don't have to be sorry

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry learns why you refuse to let him pay, uncovering your painful past.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: past abusive relationship, little angst, fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Harry had always found joy in giving. Growing up, even when he didn’t have much, he’d learned that the look on someone’s face when you did something kind for them was worth more than anything money could buy. That lesson had carried over into his adult life, especially once his career took off and his world expanded in ways he’d never anticipated. He loved surprising his family with impromptu vacations, treating his friends to dinners just because, and going the extra mile to make everyone around him feel cared for.

When he met you, he found himself wanting to do those little things even more. Your smile was infectious, your laugh a melody he didn’t know he’d been missing until you came along. You were so strong, so independent, and it only made him more drawn to you, your kindness, and your spirit. From early on, he’d noticed that you carried yourself with an ease that spoke of someone who’d learned to take care of themselves, and he admired it. You were thoughtful, always prepared, and fiercely capable of handling things on your own.

Still, that didn’t stop Harry from wanting to treat you. From the beginning, he’d try to pick up the tab here and there, take you out for meals he knew you’d love, or surprise you with little things—your favorite flowers, a new book he thought you might enjoy. But each time he tried, you’d flash that polite, unwavering smile and insist on paying your own way. It wasn’t just a gesture, either. It was firm, unyielding, and Harry quickly learned that it was one boundary you weren’t willing to compromise.

He brushed it off at first, thinking maybe it was just the way you were. And in a way, he appreciated your independence. He knew you’d never take advantage of his generosity, and that was part of what made him feel so strongly for you. But as time went on, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle ways you’d tense up when he offered to pay, how your expression would harden slightly when he’d suggest covering the check. It was almost as if his offers triggered something in you, something you seemed determined to hide but couldn’t fully suppress.

And so, he kept quiet, telling himself not to pry, to respect your independence. Yet, as the months went on, he found that it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the one to pay, necessarily—it was that he wanted to feel like he could express his love without it feeling like a violation. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to let him in, to let him care for you in a way that didn’t make you feel trapped.

One evening in late autumn, he planned a special dinner. The two of you had been talking about going to this small bistro on the outskirts of town for a while. It was an intimate spot with candle-lit tables and soft jazz playing in the background, and Harry knew you’d love it. The idea of spending a quiet, meaningful night there with you had stayed on his mind for weeks.

The evening was perfect. The glow from the restaurant’s lanterns bathed the room in a warm, amber light, casting a soft radiance on your face that made you look even more beautiful than usual. Your laughter floated through the air as you both shared stories and exchanged glances, and Harry felt the gentle comfort of being in your presence, something he’d come to treasure more than he’d ever thought possible.

When the bill finally arrived, he reached for it out of habit, ready to do what he’d long hoped to: treat you to something special, just because he wanted to. But, as always, you beat him to it, your card already in hand, that same polite but unwavering determination in your eyes.

“Please, love,” he murmured, placing a hand gently over yours before you could hand the card to the waiter. “Let me take care of this one, alright?”

Your smile faltered just for a second, and he saw a flicker of something in your eyes—something that didn’t quite match the confident independence you usually displayed. It was a look of hesitation, one that seemed out of place for you, and Harry couldn’t ignore it any longer. The moment was brief, gone as quickly as it came, but it was enough to stir his concern.

As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, Harry held your hand, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin as you strolled down the quiet, lamp-lit street. His mind was still on that moment at the table, the look in your eyes that hinted at something more, something you’d been keeping from him.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him, his fingers still laced with yours as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet concern.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low, careful. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but… why don’t you ever let me pay? I know you’re independent, and I love that about you. But… it feels like there’s something more to it. Like you’re keeping something from me.”

You met his gaze for a moment, but quickly looked away, shifting under the weight of his words. He could see a hint of tension in your shoulders, the way your hand tightened slightly around his, as if you were bracing yourself against an invisible force.

“It’s… it’s not about you, Harry,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you know that. This is just… it’s something I’ve had to do for myself.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue without saying a word. He could see you struggling to find the right words, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on you, as if the memories you carried were too painful to release.

“My last relationship was… it was complicated,” you finally said, your voice wavering slightly. “My ex… he was controlling. It wasn’t like this—it wasn’t done out of kindness, or love. It was… it was about power.”

Harry felt his heart sink as he watched you, his own feelings of helplessness swelling inside him as he realized just how deeply those past experiences had affected you. His fingers tightened around yours, as if to ground you, to remind you that he was there, listening.

“He… wouldn’t let me pay for anything either,” you continued, your gaze distant as if you were looking back at a memory you’d tried to bury. “He wouldn’t let me work. He’d tell me it was because he wanted to take care of me, but it was… it was more than that. He made sure I depended on him for everything. And whenever I used his money, he’d remind me that I wouldn’t have anything without him.”

You swallowed hard, the pain in your eyes raw, the vulnerability in your expression stark against the mask of strength you usually wore.

“It was like… like every time I let him pay, he took a piece of me with it. I felt like I was losing myself, one little piece at a time.”

Harry felt a swell of emotions surge through him, a mix of anger, sorrow, and helplessness. He hated the thought of you going through that, hated the idea that someone had taken advantage of your trust, had tried to mold you into something you weren’t. The thought of someone treating you that way filled him with a protective instinct he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Oh, love,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

The warmth of his hand against your cheek was grounding, soothing, a reminder of the safety you felt with him—a safety that was new, unfamiliar, and terrifying in its own way. You looked up at him, feeling the walls you’d carefully built around yourself begin to crumble, the armor you’d worn to protect yourself falling away under the gentle strength of his gaze.

“I didn’t want to feel that way again,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. “When I finally left, I promised myself I’d be independent, that I’d never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. I didn’t want to feel… trapped.”

Harry listened, his heart breaking for the pain you’d carried alone for so long. He wanted nothing more than to reach into those memories and erase every moment of hurt, to go back and shield you from the scars that man had left behind. But he knew he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was be here, fully and completely, for you now.

He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace, as if his presence could somehow shelter you from every painful memory, every scar that still lingered. You felt yourself relax in his hold, the tension in your body melting away as you allowed yourself to simply be, to feel safe, without fear.

He held you for what felt like an eternity, his hand gently rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. Finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders, his gaze filled with a tenderness that took your breath away.

" I'm sorry." You said in a whisper, almost unhearable to him. Almost.

“ Oh lovie. I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise. ��You don’t have to carry this alone. You don't have to be sorry. I’ll never make you feel that way, I promise. You’re safe with me.”

The sincerity in his words touched something deep within you, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could let go of the past. You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as you allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, to trust in the quiet strength of his presence.

“Thank you, Harry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and relief. “I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

He smiled, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you continued your walk down the quiet street. The world around you felt different somehow, softer, brighter, as if the warmth of his love had transformed the cold night into something beautiful.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Harry glanced at you with a playful grin. “You know, I was thinking… if you keep insisting on paying for everything, I might just have to start charging you a fee for dating me.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh really? And what would that fee be?”

“Let’s see… one home-cooked dinner a month, plus unlimited cuddle time, and maybe a few spontaneous trips to the ice cream shop,” he replied, feigning seriousness with a cheeky smile.

“Sounds like a bargain, but you might want to raise your rates. I’m a high-maintenance girlfriend,” you shot back, a playful glint in your eye.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “High-maintenance? lovie, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll throw in a free consultation on how to keep your wallet healthy. You know, just in case you want to save up for our future yacht,” you teased, your tone light.

“Ah, yes! The yacht. I’ll need a solid financial plan for that one,” he said, nodding dramatically. “Maybe we should just start a joint account: ‘Harry and Y/N’s Fund for Epic Adventures.’”

“Only if I get to choose the adventures,” you countered with a grin.

“Deal! Just promise me one thing,” he said, suddenly serious.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Promise you’ll never stop being you—independent, sassy, and always ready to take the lead when it comes to dinner bills,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed, feeling your heart swell. “Oh, I won’t! But fair warning: you’ll always be my favourite plus-one, even if you are a bit of a freeloader.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Freeloader? I’ll have you know, I bring a lot to this relationship—like charm, good looks, and the occasional serenade!”

“Okay, you’ve got a point there,” you conceded, shaking your head with a laugh. “But just wait until I hit the jackpot. You won’t know what hit you when I start treating you!”

With laughter and lightness in the air, you both continued your walk, the future feeling bright and filled with promise, all while playfully nudging each other along the way.

[mochiwonz]

✉ - while you were sleeping, i fell in love ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x boyfriend!jay , fluff & comfort !!! , a lot of skinship (hugging, touching face, kisses etc) , jay is smitten and so is reader :3 , reader calls jay "jjongie" and jay calls reader "y/nnie" and other pet names , reader is shorter than jay

𓍯𓂃 word count : 1.8k

𓍯𓂃 note : this was inspired by my favorite song ever while you were sleeping by laufey !! this is a very comforting fic and i hope you enjoy it <33

Finally, it was Friday evening, the night you've been waiting for since the start of the week. Why were Friday evenings so important to you? Well because those were the nights you spent with your lovely boyfriend, jay. Or as you'd call him, jjongie.

You guys made it a tradition to have sleepovers every Friday night. It was for fun at first, but now its turned into an actual tradition. But frankly, you both don't mind. You'd accept any extra time you could to be in each other's presence.

Arriving at his place, you knock on the door and wait for him to open it. God, you've missed him so much. You both have been so busy with your own things, college for you and work for him.

And there he was - your beautiful boyfriend, smiling so fondly at you when he notices that you came in your cute silk pajamas.

"hey my pretty girlll, come inside" he tells you while taking your bag off of your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. He truly missed you so much, he couldn't wait to spend the rest of tonight with you - his beautiful girlfriend.

Entering his apartment, you're instantly met with the scent of clean laundry, vanilla, and some sort-of food. The lights are dim, a warm yellow, and it reminded you just how much you missed his apartment, too.

"missed you so much jjongie" you sigh when he brings you into his embrance, his head resting on top of yours and arms wrapped around your waist.

"i know baby, missed u too my love. let's eat, yeah? then we can cuddle my love" he tells you in a soft voice.

Agreeing, you follow him to the island in his kitchen where the food is laid out. And oh my god, how you love this man. You smile at him when you notice that he got you your favorite food, your favorite drink, and lit a candle, too. You could never ask for a better boyfriend, jay was really the best.

"oh my fucking god jay I could kiss you right now." you say while still smling at him. Instead of using words to respond, he picks you up as if you're as light as a feather and gives you a peck on the lips.

"there's your kiss my y/nnie, now let's eat before the food gets cold, yeah?" he says as he walks over to slide out a chair for you to sit on.

How did you even find such a gentleman?? Anyways, you both get lost in conversation, talking about your weeks and how much you've missed each other. Eating yummy food and talking with your favorite person in the whole entire world, you felt so so happy right now.

It was now time for what you've been waiting for the whole week, cuddles. Honestly, you've been cuddled by your bestfriend but nothing compares to his cuddles. He's like your own teddy bear. You can't even explain how much comfort his cuddles provide you. Jay also feels the same way, he always feels immediately better once you're near him or hugging him. Doing anything with you is like instant comfort and happiness to him.

One could say you're both crazy in love with eachother, and that would be 110% true! After making yourself a warm cup of tea, you wait for jay on the couch. Looking back up, your eyes are blessed with a jay in cute white pajamas. How could a grown man be so fucking cute?? You'll never know.

Walking over to you, he explains "wanted to get comfy, couldn't be cuddling you in jeans and a polo"

"you're so cute my jjongie" you tell him as he lays down on the couch and signals for you to lay on top of him.

He moves his arms onto your back so they're hugging you and instantly, your body feels so much more relaxed. You can hear his heartbeat and he can hear yours, and you love it. You love intimate moments with jay, they hold such a special place in your heart.

Jay starts moving his hand up and down your back, and you look up at him. You quickly give him a peck on his nose, one of your favorite features of his. He looks down at you and smiles fondly, you swear you saw hearts in his eyes. Gently, he brings your forehead closer to his lips and kisses it. You close your eyes at the contact, feeling as if you're in heaven.

After about 20 minutes, you feel jay's hand stop moving. You look up at face and - he's asleep.

Wow, he looks so peaceful and absolutely unreal. Of course, you take this time to admire his beauty. His beautiful eyelashes, glowing skin, sharp nose, cute lips, and the birthmark on his neck are all so beautiful. You bring your hand up to his face and softly caress the warm skin. You bring your other hand to his hair to brush through it. Even his hair is pretty, it's so luscious and shiny. Plus, it smells so good. You smile sweetly at him and give him a peck on his lips. You can't help but admire him everytime that you get the chance, he's your beautiful jjongie.

Finally, it was Friday evening, the night you've been waiting for since the start of the week. Why were Friday evenings so important to you? Well because those were the nights you spent with your lovely boyfriend, jay. Or as you'd call him, jjongie.

You guys made it a tradition to have "sleepovers" every Friday night. It was for fun at first, but now its turned into an actual tradition. But frankly, you both don't mind. You'd accept any extra time you could to be in each other's presence.

Arriving at his place, you knock on the door and wait for him to open it. God, you've missed him so much. His voice, his beautiful face, his presence - everything. You both have been so busy with your own things, college for you and work for him.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, there he was - your beautiful boyfriend, smiling so fondly at you when he notices that you came in your cute silk pajamas.

"hey my pretty girl in her pretty pajamas, come inside" he says while taking your bag off of your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. He truly missed you so much, he couldn't wait to spend the rest of tonight with you - his beautiful girlfriend.

"missed you so much jjongie" you sigh when he brings you into his embrance. Nobody could ever compare to him. Nobody, ever.

"i know baby, missed u too my love. let's eat, yeah? then we can cuddle." he tells you in a soft voice.

Agreeing, you follow him to the island in his kitchen where the food is laid out. And oh my god, how you love this man. You smile at him when you notice that he got you your favorite food, your favorite drink, and lit a candle, too. You could never ask for a better boyfriend, jay was really the best.

"oh my fucking god jay I could kiss you right now." you say while still smling at him. Instead of using words to respond, he picks you up and gives you a peck on the lips.

"there's your kiss my y/nnie, now let's eat before the food gets cold, yeah?" he says as he walks over to slide out a chair for you to sit on.

How did you even find such a gentleman?? Anyways, you both get lost in conversation, talking about your weeks and how much you've missed each other. Eating yummy food and talking with your favorite person in the whole entire world, you felt so so happy right now.

It was now time for what you've been waiting for the whole week, cuddles. Honestly, you've been cuddled by your bestfriend but nothing compares to his cuddles. He's like your own teddy bear. You can't even explain how much comfort his cuddles provide you. Jay also feels the same way, he always feels immediately better once you're near him or hugging him. Doing anything with you is like instant comfort and happiness to him.

One could say you're both crazy in love with eachother, and that would be 110% true! After making yourself a warm cup of tea, you wait for jay on the couch. Looking back up, your eyes are blessed with a jay in cute white pajamas. How could a grown man be so fucking cute?? You'll never know.

Walking over to you, he explains "wanted to get comfy, couldn't be cuddling you in jeans and a polo"

"you're so cute my jjongie" you tell him as he lays down on the couch and signals for you to lay on top of him.

He moves his arms onto your back so they're hugging you and instantly, your body feels so much more relaxed. You can hear his heartbeat and he can hear yours, and you love it. You love intimate moments with jay, they hold such a special place in your heart.

Jay starts moving his hand up and down your back, and you look up at him. You quickly give him a peck on his nose, one of your favorite features of his. He looks down at you and smiles fondly, you swear you saw hearts in his eyes. Gently, he brings your forehead closer to his lips and kisses it. You close your eyes at the contact, feeling as if you're in heaven.

After about 20 minutes, you feel jay's hand stop moving. You look up at face and - he's asleep.

And wow, he looks so peaceful and absolutely unreal. Reminiscent of a painting. Of course, you take this time to admire his beauty. His beautiful eyelashes, glowing skin, sharp nose, cute lips, and the birthmark on his neck are all so beautiful. You bring your hand up to his face and softly caress the warm skin. You bring your other hand to his hair to brush through it. Even his hair is pretty, it's so luscious and shiny. Plus, it smells so good. You smile sweetly at him and give him a peck on his lips. You can't help but admire him everytime that you get the chance, he's your beautiful jjongie.

"my jjongie, you're so beautiful. i love you so much my beautiful boy. always." you tell him, not caring if he hears or not. You just need to say it.

You realize that you're falling in love with this man all over again, while he's asleep. And honestly, you could probably fall in love with him a million more times.

jay is totally bias wrecking me rn LOL but he has suuchhh a comforting aura. i love this man so much <333 pls reblog if you enjoyed ,, you can check out my other work here !!

[trumanbluee]

lights out - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content: theres a black out in your apartment. wade asks you, "what's one thing you've always wanted to try?".

word count: 3.9k (jesus, sorry)

warnings: pegging, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, sub!wade, established relationship, fingering (m receiving), this is quite literally porn with very little plot

a/n: hi !! sorry this is such a long one! i've never written something like this before, so i hope it's okay! please let me know what you think <3

you're sitting on the couch, chin resting on the knee of your right leg, the other tucked underneath you. wade's sitting on the opposite side of the couch, and he leans forward to take a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table.

you take a sip of your rosé, leaning forward to get yourself a slice of pizza too. wade's fixated on whatever crappy show he's put on on the television, but you're bored (and horny, but that could wait until you were a few more glasses of wine deep.)

you huff, shuffling your position to place your feet in wade's lap. you finish your slice of pizza, setting your, now empty, glass of wine on the table. wade's still focused on the television, so you gently tap his thigh with your foot. he still doesn't look.

you sigh, slightly annoyed that he's giving the tv more attention than he's giving you. you give him one more opportunity, tapping his upper thigh with your bare foot once again. wade catches your ankle, attention finally turning towards you.

he's smiling at you, and he looks so cute and cosy in his pyjamas that you almost outwardly coo.

"whats up, baby?" he asks, thumb rubbing circles on the soft skin of your ankle. you smile softly at his caresses, but furrow your eyebrows slightly as you answer his question.

"..m'bored," you whine, rolling your head back against the pillow thats propping you up against the arm of the couch. wade chuckles, squeezing your foot affectionately.

"bored, huh? what do you wanna do, doll-face? i told you you could pick the show."

you shrug and go to speak, but are interrupted by a flash of light outside, followed by the booming sound of thunder echoing through the apartment. the lights flicker above you, before the room goes completely dark.

"..shit," you hear wade murmur, watching as the tv and fridge turn off too.

"y'better get creative, pookie-bear. power's out."

you groan, getting up and bringing the bottle of wine over to the couch, pouring yourself another glass. you also bring the candle you had lit in the bathroom, the light slightly illuminating the room. you sit back down on the couch, laying your feet back in wade's lap. he resumes his soft circles on your ankle.

"so, pookie, whatd'ya wanna do?" wade asks, taking a sip from his beer. the room is barely lit by the candle you've brought out, and you can only make out that wade's looking at you because of the city lights streaming in through the window behind you.

you shrug, taking a sip of your wine.

"i don't know, baby," you say, leaning forward to scratch an itch on your knee. wade uses this as an opportunity to pull you closer to him, nestling you into his side.

you don't put up any fight at all, easily settling in to his arm pit as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

you sit in comfortable silence for a while, the hand thats not holding your wine glass tangles with wade's hand as it hangs off your shoulder, occasionally squeezing it softly.

the silence doesn't last long though, to be expected when you're with wade wilson -- but you don't mind, you'd happily sit there and let him drone on and on about whatever he was particularly animated about that day.

wade's voice cuts through the silence, and you hear him swallow as he takes another sip of his beer.

"if you could be any vegetable in the world, what would you be, and why?"

you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the question, pressing your face into wade's side to stifle your giggles.

"what the fuck question is that, wade?' you laugh, looking up at him. you're close enough to be able to make out his face in the darkness, and he's looking down at you, a fond smile on his face.

he puts on a serious voice, stating sternly, "a very fuckin' serious one, princess."

you laugh, shaking your head, but you answer anyway.

"i'd be a cucumber, i think."

wade chuckles, and you feel it rumble in his chest as you lean into him.

"a cucumber, huh? why? 'cause you're cool as fuck?"

you laugh, nodding your head. "exactly, baby. y'know it."

he chuckles, taking another sip from his beer.

"what else've you got for me, wade-y?" you ask, tilting your head to look up at him. he puts a finger to his chin in thought.

"chocolate or vanilla?"

you laugh softly, looking at him with an 'are-you-serious?' expression.

"you know this already, doofus."

he puts his hands up in mock defence, "fine, fine. um... marvel or dc?"

you laugh loudly at this, stifling your giggles into wade's shirt again, shaking your head with a smile.

"..well... batman is the best super-hero, maybe ever.." you say trailing off, "but probably marvel, i guess, 'cos you're not dc, baby."

wade laughs, and you hear him mumble a playfully dejected, "fuckin' batman" to himself.

you laugh, leaning forward to pick the bottle of wine up off the coffee table, pouring yourself another tall glass of rosé. wade guzzles the last of his beer, setting it down next to the now empty wine bottle.

he leans back against the couch once again, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you back into him.

wade's hand slips beneath the fabric of your top, his hand gently rubbing the skin of your shoulder and the top of your arm.

"..last one, mm baby?" he says, continuing to caress your skin.

"what's one thing you wanna do with me that we haven't done yet?"

you almost scoff at this, knowing exactly what wade is trying to suggest. he's been trying to get you to let him fuck you up the ass for awhile now, but you'd always said no. so, you were gonna flip the script on him.

you pretend to think, eyebrows furrowing as you tap a finger to your chin in fake deep thought. you struggle to hide your smirk, stifling it by having a sip of your wine.

"hmm," you say, and your cheeks heat up as you go to speak, though you convince yourself its all the wine you've had, "..always wanted to try pegging, actually."

wade almost gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to look at you, your wine almost sloshing over the rim of your glass at his jostling.

"...wha-" he shakes his head as if trying to clear it.

"come again? this time in my ear?" he says, cupping a hand around his ear as though he didn't hear you.

you roll your eyes, playfully shoving wade's shoulder.

"i know you heard me, wade." you say, voice sounding bored, but your face shows your amusement, a smile poking at the corners of your mouth.

he takes a beat, looking at you and trying to figure out if you're serious or not.

"...you... you wanna... peg me?" he asks, his eye contact almost too intense as he speaks slowly.

"yes, wade." you say, matter-of-factly, "i know you did it with vanessa, and i wanna see what all the fuss is about. plus, maybe it'll finally shut you up." you throw that last part in as a joke, an attempt at disguising your obvious jealousy of vanessa knowing a part of wade that you didn't.

wade groans breathily, leaning his head forward to press into your boobs.

"..fuck, doll-face, why didn't ya' say something' sooner? y'tellin' me that i've been begging to fuck you like that, whole time you've wanted to do it to me?"

you nod, feeling sheepish the more the conversation continues. you feel your cheeks warm up, and quickly go to dismiss the idea.

"forget it... it's not--"

you're cut off by wade pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

"who said i didn't want you to do it, hotstuff? fuck, can you imagine how hot that'll look? maybe we should record it."

you laugh, pushing him back by his shoulders.

"i think you're getting ahead of yourself a little bit, baby."

wade smiles, mostly to himself, and shakes his head in what seems like disbelief.

"i can't believe you wanna peg me," he mumbles, pressing a sloppy kiss to your pulse point. your breathe hitches, but you push him off.

"you asked me the question, wade!" you laugh, lightly shoving him off of you and leaning forward to put your wine glass on the coffee table.

wade gasps dramatically, holding a hand to his heart as you shove him off, albeit lightly.

"i did, didn't i?" he grins at you, "well... i can't deny the princess, can i? lets make the magic happen."

you giggle, not taking him seriously. he quirks an eyebrow at you.

"what? you don't think i'm man enough to handle it?"

he makes a show of flexing his arms and puffing his chest out.

"why don't we find out right now?"

wade jumps off the couch, grabbing your arms and pulling you up, leading you towards your shared bedroom.

you laugh softly, "baby! baby, wait... y'need to slow down," i laugh breathily, a twinge of excitement nestling in my stomach.

wade's already dragged you to the bed, and is in the middle of taking his sweatpants off, his t-shirt already discarded on the floor somewhere.

"y'gotta be like... warmed up first, right?" you ask softly, your cheeks turning pink slightly. wade coos.

"well... i mean... i can just heal, but..."

you cut him off, screwing your face up in disgust.

"what? wade, shut the fuck up. m'not just shoving a plastic dick up your ass with no preparation. i wanna do it properly."

wade's face softens at your words, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips before pulling his boxers down.

you know wade has a strap on, and he retrieves it from it's resting place amongst the rest of your sex toys in your wardrobe as you undress yourself.

wade turns around from the closet, his arms dropping to his sides as he takes in your naked body.

"fuck baby, y'so beautiful." he bites his lip, walking over and placing the strap on on the bottom of the bed.

you blush, shyly mumbling a thank you. wade laughs at your reaction.

wade must sense your uncertainty, and he throws you a bone.

"where d'you want me baby? on all fours on the bed?"

you nod, cheeks turning a deeper pink at the crassness of the situation. you take a deep breathe, putting the strap-on on and kneeling on the bed next to wade.

you spit into your hand, bringing it down to half-heartedly stroke his hardening cock. he groans, hips grinding into your hand softly.

"fuck, baby... don't stop.."

you pull your hand off at wade's words, reaching for the lube in the drawer of the bedside table. you squirt some onto wade's asshole, spreading it gently with your thumb.

wade lets out a deep breathe, burying his face into the pillows, muffling his moans as you slowly work your finger into him.

"s'this okay, baby?" you ask, unsure as you slowly press your lubricated finger into wade.

you don't get a reply, only breath moans as wade pushes back against your hand, "..please, baby... more..."

you shush him gently, working your singular digit deeper into him, curling it slightly.

wade lets out a soft groan, "..fuuck... just like that," he whimpers into the pillows, pushing his hips back to meet your finger.

"so good..so fucking good." he mumbles, and that spurs you on. wade already being fucked out from just one finger feeds your ego, making you feel more confident.

you rub his asscheek with your unoccupied hand, cooing a soft "relax, baby."

you hear him take a deep breathe, and his hole relaxes slightly. wade keens into your touch as you continue your soothing circles on his ass, quickening the pace of your singular finger.

"..please, princess.. more.." he whines, pushing his hips back to meet your finger.

deciding that he's stretched enough, you push a second finger into his asshole, scissoring the two to spread him open. you watch as wade's hips mindlessly buck forward, and you can see his pre-cum leaking onto the sheets.

wade cries out in pleasure, the sound muffled by the pillows. his hips buck forward as your second finger enters him, his body tenses at first, but he relaxes, whining softly as he pushes back to meet your hand.

"..fuuck, yes... jus' like that.." wade whimpers, shoving his face into the pillows beneath his head.

you rub soothing circles on his asscheek as you scissor your two fingers inside him, trying to loosen him up and prepare him for the strap-on.

"good boy, baby," you praise, caressing the curve of his ass as you move your fingers in and out of him at a quicker pace, "taking my fingers so well, yeah?"

wade nods frantically into the pillows, already too lost in pleasure to form coherent words. he pushes back to meet your hand, and you can feel his asshole loosening around your fingers as you scissor them open inside him.

you watch as his hole starts to relax and loosen around your fingers.

"m'gonna make sure you cum before i fuck you, kay baby?" you coo at him, your hand still rubbing your soothing circles on his skin.

wade whines as he moves his hips back to meet your fingers, nodding eagerly at your words.

"..y-yes... please... need t'cum.." he babbles from beneath you. you smile at his desperate voice, and begin to shove your fingers deeper into his ass, curling them up in search of his prostate.

at the same time, you reach the hand that was rubbing soothing circles on your ass around to stroke his cock, smearing his pre-cum down his shaft and swiping your thumb skilfully over the tip.

wade moans into the pillow, hips bucking into your fist, and you can tell by the way his length throbs in your hand that he's close. you fuck your fingers into wade with the same pace as you stroke his cock, watching as his hips stutter in uncertainty of whether to buck forward, or push backwards.

"c'mon, baby.." you murmur, squeezing your hand around his cock. the sensation of your fingers inside of him, and your hand tugging on his cock, is too much for wade to handle, and he strangles out a guttural moan into the soft pillows as he cums, his body tensing up as he empties himself onto your hand and the bedsheets beneath him.

you feel his asshole clench around your fingers as he shoves his face into the bed, his cock going soft in your hand as the last bit of his cum spurts out onto the sheets.

wade collapses onto the bed, spend and out-of-breath, his body relaxed and pliant, limbs heavy with post-orgasm bliss.

"mmm.. that was.. so good," he hums sleepily, burying his face into the soft pillows, "..now.. please.. need you inside me.." he whines softly.

you smile down at him, still seating on your knees on the bottom of the bed. you lean forward to capture wade's mouth in a soft kiss, rubbing his back soothingly.

"y'sure, baby?' you check in with him, wanting to make sure this was something he wants to do, though who were you kidding? wade was the freakiest person you knew, of course this was something he wanted to do.

wade lifts his head slightly, looking up at you through bleary eyes.

"..please, baby.." he whines softly, brows knitting together.

you smile at him softly, still rubbing his back soothingly, "m'kay, baby. get on your hands and knees for me, can you honey?"

he nods, slowly getting up and moving into position, his movements a little clumsy as his legs wobble from his previous orgasm. he rests his head back on the pillows, turning to look at you over his shoulder with a sleepy smile.

"like this, baby?" he asks, voice so small sounding that you can't help but coo at him.

you nod, smiling at him and affectionately rubbing the curve of his ass.

"good boy, honey." you praise, and wade's cheeks flush at your words, a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal flooding through hi as he bites back whatever noise of pleasure he was about to make.

"m'not a dog," wade mutters, causing you to scoff, laughing softly.

"no, y'not. what? you don't like being called a good boy, wade?" you ask, putting on a stern voice, though you're teasing him, having seen the way he bit his lip to stifle his noise.

his face heats up even more, if possible, and he lets out a small, embarrassed, whine.

"s-shut up.." he glares back at you, but there's no way of hiding the way his body reacts to your words, his heart racing and cheeks burning hot.

you laugh, almost cruelly, spreading lube down the length of the strap-on before lining up to wade's asshole.

"y'ready, honey?" you ask, voice soft as you rub his hip softly.

he takes a deep breathe from beneath you, letting it out slowly as he nods. he bites his lip, butterflies swirling in his stomach as he feels the cold lube against his skin.

"..y-yeah.. do your worst... or best?" he mumbles, looking at you over his shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.

you laugh softly, spreading his ass open with your hands before pressing the tip of the strap to your asshole.

"relax for me, baby.."

he takes another deep breathe, slowly letting it out as his body relaxes, his shoulders slumping forward slightly. you press the tip of the strap-on past the tight ring of muscles, and wade lets out a low moan, his fingers gripping the pillows tightly.

"..m-more..." he whimpers, pushing back against you.

you rub his ass soothingly as you slowly press into him. he whimpers and moans beneath you, his body tensing and relaxing in turns as he adjusts to the sensation.

he buries his face in the pillows, voice muffled as he begs for more.

"..please, baby.. s'good.."

you coo softly, pressing further into his tight hole as you continue your soft circles on his hips, "good boy, baby... takin' me so well.."

his cheeks turn pink at your words, and he pushes back against you, moaning as you bottom out inside him.

wade lets out a deep, shuddering moan as you fill him up completely, his body going tense and then relaxing as he adjusts to the sensation. he whimpers, and you can almost see the thoughts leaving his mind as you fuck into him with shallow thrusts.

"..oh, fuck... so good," wade mumbles into the pillows.

"such a good boy, wade," you coo, stilling your hips to let him adjust to the size of the strap-on inside him.

he lets out a low whine, shifting uncomfortably against the sheets, feeling empty and restless without your steady thrusts. he tries to push his hips back to meet yours desperately.

"..c-come on... keep goin'.." he begs, looking back at you over his shoulder, "..need it... n-need you.."

you tut, "barely fucked you, and you're already a mess, baby."

you begin moving your hips at a painstakingly slow pace. wade lets out a sharp gasp, his body writhing beneath you. he moans into the pillows, his hips moving back to meet your thrusts, your hands on his hips guiding him softly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

wade moans underneath you, jolting forward with every thrust you push into him with. you angle your hips up, searching for his prostate with every thrust.

you know you've found it when you hear a loud keen from wade, his face shoved into the pillows as he arches his back, as he moans loudly.

you keep your pace, angling your hips the same way over and over, feeling wade's thighs begin to shake as you rut into him. you squeeze your hands on his hips harshly, nails digging into the skin slightly.

he hisses beneath you, babbling nonsense as he whines incoherently. i continue my steady rhythm, relishing in the pretty noises slipping from your lips every time i thrust forward. i spit in my right hand, leaning forward and slipping my arm underneath you, wrapping my hand around your cock and tugging softly.

you feel wade's hips buck into your hand, listening to his soft whines as you skilfully swipe a thumb over his slit, smearing his pre-cum down his length as you continue the rhythm of your thrusts.

you tug at wade's cock, feeling his hip stutter with uncertainty of whether to buck into your hand or or push back against your thrusts.

"look at you, huh?" you tease meanly, slowing the drag of your hips, deliberately hitting the spot inside of him, over and over, "big, bad Deadpool, so fucked out by his little girlfriend he can't even form a thought."

you squeeze your hand around his cock, listening to him whine, babbling something that sounds like," ...f-feels so.. good..." into the pillows, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.

you know he's getting close, his length throbbing in your hand as you twist your fist around it, slamming your hips into him.

"c'mon, honey.. y'gonna cum for me?" you coo, thrusting into him harshly as he ruts into your hand, his high-pitched moans muffled in the cushions.

he whines, a gently, "u-uh huh.. m'gonna..."

you deliver a particularly harsh thrust to his prostate before you feel his body tense up beneath you, legs quivering as he groans into the pillows, back arched as his hips jerk into your hand, thick ropes of cum spilling out onto your hand and the sheets below him.

you slow your hips, gently fucking him through his orgasm, cooing soft words of praise as his body goes slack beneath you with a guttural groan. you rub soothing circles on his back as you slowly pull out of him, a soft whimper sounding from him at the loss of contact.

you take the strap-on off, discarding it on the dresser before crawling up the bed, slipping in next to wade. he instantly snuggles into you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck.

"how'd i do, baby?" i ask gently, voice barely above a whisper as you lay against me with your eyes closed. i know you're not asleep because i can feel you tracing soft circles on the exposed skin of my upper thigh.

"so good, doll-face," he mumbles against your skin, "..fuck, i can't believe you didn't let me record that. y'know the numbers that shit would get on only fans?"

i laugh softly, shaking my head, "next time, baby -- maybe. m'not making any promises."

wade goes silent for a second, before asking, his voice soft, "did you like it? was it.. fun f'you?"

you pout at how cute he is, twisting your body beneath the sheets to face him.

"wade, i just got to shut you up for more than a minute, of course i loved it." you giggle softly, bringing wade's hand up to your mouth and kissing his knuckles softly.

"seriously, i had fun, wade. don't worry about that." you assure him when he gives you a pointed look, eyes softening as you press your lips to his knuckles.

wade smiles cheekily, pulling you into him, "well, if that's how you're gonna shut me up, maybe i should start talking more, huh?"

you give him a look, laughing, "are you sure that's even possible?"

he smiles, "remember what happened the last time you thought i couldn't do something?"

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

taglist: @tvwebs @muteprincess @blckbarbiedoll @dwthisuserisalive @catts-world @helpyourself-9 @tiredemzz @starstruckracc @imcrying24 @aintsoprettynow @thedevilsaysthings @darerlin @tokkiwrites

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: a power outage, Jungkook being a menace as per always, getting stood up for Valentine's Day, falling on a patch of ice, alcohol, curses, peach, OC gets a little jealous, explicit content: teasing?, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, sex toy (vibrator), male and female masturbation, praising, cum play (don't be stupid), fingering

☆word count: 13.2k

☆a/n: this is like one of my fav chapters in this whole series, and also the one inspired by jungkook's iconic live with the candle and the white dress shirt and oof :') hope you enjoy it!! Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Thursday, February 14th 

Sometimes, the universe aligns to create such a shitty day that you think your life is a joke. A cruel joke, and you’re just the sitcom character that people use to make themselves feel better.

Today has been one of those days. You woke up late, somehow not hearing your alarm, and got to your midterm so late you didn’t have time to finish. At least you were confident in the answers that you did write down, so you think there’s a chance you’ll still pass. 

Then, you forgot your student ID, and the lady at the cafeteria refused to let you eat even though she’s seen you almost every day of the semester so far. Nabi offered you some of her salad, but you felt bad and barely ate.

Then the rain started – freezing rain at that – and you had to run to the other building for your genetics class, ending with your hair half frozen and the knowledge that you’re going to get sick by tomorrow.

Genetics class in and of itself is fine. Your stomach gurgling all through the class isn’t, and you’ve noticed people looking at you where you’re sitting, every time your stomach thinks it’s a whale and it needs to sing to its fellow mates.

During break, someone offers you a protein bar, and you take it with cheeks burning, thanking them profusely. Though you hate the taste of protein bars, and you struggle to finish it without puking on the desk. You power through, and then the class resumes, and you try to focus. It’s hard, and when you receive a text from Hoseok, you stop pretending that you’re listening.

[2:47 pm] Hobi: have u seen the weather outside? [2:47 pm] You: yeah it’s trash. I think I’m still half frozen [2:49 pm] Hobi: don’t have power at my place anymore [2:50 pm] Hobi: and it looks dangerous to drive

You know exactly what’s coming. It shouldn’t even come as a surprise – you don’t know why you agreed to meet up on Valentine’s Day. Yet, you’ve been looking forward to it all day, perhaps because it’s been so shit even hanging out with Hoseok on this day of celebration of love seemed better.

[2:50 pm] Hobi: any chance I can get a raincheck?

You want to bash your head on the desk, and of course, the professor chooses this exact moment to call you out for being on your phone. You flush a deep red, mumbling an apology as you put your phone face down on the desk. Everyone’s looking at you, and from where you’re sitting at the back of the class you can see that half the people aren’t even taking notes. You think they’re full of shit for glaring at you, but you can’t help the way you turn crimson, and Nabi stifles a laugh next to you.

“Shut up,” you whisper through gritted teeth, elbowing her in the ribs. 

She shrugs innocently, and then her eyes slide back to the professor as he resumes the class. Not wanting to risk it, you focus too, and it seems the shame is what you need to finally concentrate because you find yourself typing away on the computer, describing the pictures in the PowerPoint slides so you can understand them later.

The lights go out five minutes before the end of the class. The projector shuts down in time, a clear indication that the college has run out of power too – something that rarely ever happens unless it’s the end of the world outside.

There’s a series of gasps, and the professor looks so jaded at the front of the class that you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s made of the actual precious stone. He looks towards the door, where you can see that the light has also gone out in the hallway.

Without even a glance at the class, he slams his laptop shut, heaving out a sigh.

“Class dismissed for today, we don’t have enough time left to wait for the power to come back on.” 

It doesn’t even take half a second before everyone is starting to put their stuff away, the class suddenly overcome with a cacophony of sounds, and Nabi turns to you.

“Who were you texting during class?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Shut up.” You put your laptop in your bag, chugging the rest of your water bottle before you stuff it next to the laptop. “Hobi cancelled on me.”

Of course the whole friend group now knows about you two. You have Hoseok to blame for that, and his incredibly good idea to have sex at a party last week, where Yoongi walked in on the two of you. You’ve never seen Yoongi look more uncomfortable before in your life and, to your surprise, he’s been teased about the situation a lot more than you or Hoseok. It’s still a relief because you were afraid the friend group would go to shit if people knew, but now it seems it’s only solidified it even more.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “Why?”

You motion to the dead neon lights over your heads. “The weather. He doesn’t have power anymore.”

“Shit.” You finish packing your stuff and you’re walking out of the class when she continues, “That’s wild though, didn’t think the freezing rain would hit that bad.”

A girl in front of you turns as if summoned. “They’re saying it’s going to be the worst storm of the century.” She points her phone towards you and Nabi, screen first. “Look, tons of trees have already fallen.”

Your eyes widen, because indeed she’s showing a picture from a group chat, of a tree having fallen on someone’s poor car. You wince in time with Nabi.

“RIP to whoever’s car that is,” you answer.

The girl nods, a wistful expression taking over her features. “That would be my boyfriend’s.”

You don’t talk more after that, and she jogs to join her friends closer to the stairs. You take that as an opportunity to finally reply to Hoseok, grabbing your phone out of the pocket of your coat.

[3:59 pm] You: power even went out in college so yeah, np!

Hoseok is quicker to reply than you’ve expected, saying that he’d like to meet up some time this weekend if you can. You don’t promise him anything, though you don’t really have plans as of right now.

You’ve just got a feeling that, if the storm is going to be the storm of the century, you won’t be hanging out for at least a few days. And the moment you step outside, you realize that it might even take more than a few days.

Trees have fallen everywhere. The sidewalk is entirely iced, and just by the time you’ve made it to the bus stop in front of the building, you’ve seen a car accident, both cars unable to stop at a stop sign. You figure taking the bus would be dangerous right now, and you settle on aiming for the pedestrian trail that leads to a park near your apartment, while Nabi parts to head towards the dorm, where apparently the power is still on. She tells you to let her know if you have power at home, and then you turn to head towards home, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

At least it’s not raining heavily as you walk. It’s the only positive thing in your day, and you hold onto your phone, sending a text to Taehyung to inform him of the situation.

You’re two minutes from home when you slip on a slab of ice, and you fall in a puddle of mud that stains your pale pants. You don’t even know how there can be mud when everything else is frozen, but of course, you had to fall in it. You assess yourself for a second, making sure nothing hurts too bad and then you mutter, “Of fucking course.”

You don’t even feel like getting up. If it wasn’t for the fact that the mud in which you’re sitting is freezing, you think you’d sit there until you died. You feel drained, and the weight of the day finally hits you head-on, bringing tears to your eyes.

Or maybe it’s just the embarrassment of walking home with your favourite pair of pants ruined. You don’t even know anymore; too much has happened in just a few hours for your brain to accept to be working anymore. You angrily blink the tears away, knowing you’ll break down the second you step inside your own home.

You can only hope that Jungkook is not going to be there. You hold onto that hope as you get to the building, and when you see the lights are out, the tears win against you. You carefully walk up the stairs – even they are covered in a thick sheet of ice – and surprisingly, you make it to the top unscathed.

You try to unlock the door with shaky fingers, struggling to find the hole through the blurriness of your tears, and you almost consider breaking the door down when it suddenly swings open in front of you.

“Peach?”

You’re aware that you’ve got fat tears rolling down your cheeks. You’re aware that you probably look a mess – you are a mess – but all you can do is stare at Jungkook.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern as he steps aside to let you in.

You put your bag down, shrugging as he shuts the door behind him carefully, eyeing you as if you’re a specimen of a rare animal that’s going to run if he startles it. You refuse to meet his gaze, refuse to speak lest you embarrass yourself with crying even more. All you do is angrily wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“Hey,” he says, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

You motion around. “What’s wrong?” You scoff, and out of spite, you force down the wave of tears that is threatening to meet the ones you’ve just dried on your cheeks. “Everything is fucking wrong.”

You glance at Jungkook, and he’s just watching, eyes widened. He seems startled by your outburst, and you think you see him gulp.

“Do you…” he trails off, glancing at the door. You only then realize that he’s clad in his winter coat, and he was probably on his way out when you arrived. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head no, hating yourself for the way your bottom lip trembles. 

His hand is still on your shoulder, and it slowly slides to your arm. “Did you hurt yourself?” he asks.

He’s only then realized that you’re half-covered in mud.

“I fell on a patch of ice,” you answer.

He makes you turn, assessing the damage. “If you soak your pants in water, I can get the stain out.”

“There’s no power.”

He turns you back around, offering you a small smile as he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Astute.”

You want to punch him so bad, but what you do is laugh, which makes you think you’ve gone crazy.

“Water still runs, though,” he points out. “I’ll take care of it when the power comes back on. Doesn’t even need to be warm. You can save what’s left of the hot water for a shower if you want?”

He says it like a question, and you shrug your shoulders. A new tear rolls on your cheek, and to your surprise, Jungkook dries it with his thumb. He then points to your shoes.

“Take these off. You’re going to take a shower before the neighbours steal the water.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, as he’s just staring at you as if what you were going to say was going to be the stupidest shit he’s ever heard. As much as you want to hate him right now, the way his hand feels on your arm is making the anxiety lessen, until you realize that it’s going to be okay.

You can head to Ria and Nabi’s dorm right after a quick shower.

“M’kay,” you finally accept. “But you can go, you don’t have to stay.”

He shrugs, and when he lets go of your arm, you almost want to grab his hand and put it back there. “I was just going to charge my phone in my car. It can wait.”

You hold his gaze, feeling swallowed by his big doe eyes. It finishes drying the tears on your waterline, and you take a deep steadying breath. “M’kay,” you repeat.

At that he smirks, nodding his head once. He kicks off his shoes as you carefully take yours off, and then he makes grabby hands at you.

“What?” you ask.

“Your coat,” he answers. “I’ll put it in the closet for you.”

You slightly frown. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice?” When you remain silent, he chuckles. “You think I’m just going to let my best friend’s sister cry when she gets home?”

The words hurt, even though they’re just a statement of what you are to him. “You’re so random.”

He looks somehow offended. “Just give me your coat, peach.” He’s stern, and you have half a thought to mimic him, but you resist. When you hand him the coat, he offers you a grin. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Once again you surprise yourself by laughing, and the grin on his lips softens in a way that makes you warm inside.

“You’re annoying,” you whine.

He shrugs as he opens the closet. “Just go take a quick shower. Make sure to soak the pants too.”

“Yes, mom.”

He chokes on a snort. “Oof, no, don’t call me mom.”

You stifle a laugh, but a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. He faces you again, and you startle as he pinches your cheek. You push him off, as all he does is offer you a wide grin that makes dimples appear on his cheeks.

You’ve never really seen those dimples before, not while he’s smiling. You have to force yourself to look away, and as entrancing as they are, you manage to have your gaze drop to a random spot on the floor. “Alright then, I’ll grab my stuff. You can charge your phone while I’m in the shower.”

“All good, I’m at 65%,” he says. “I just checked online, and the power outage will likely last through the night so… figured I didn’t have anything better to do.”

You purse your lips. “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence before he motions to the bathroom. “Aren’t you going?”

Your cheeks burn, and you nod once before heading towards your room as he snorts behind you, evidently laughing at you. You ignore him, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and bringing them to the bathroom. Jungkook’s moved to the couch, and to your surprise you see him with a book in hand.

“You read?”

The question is out before you realize, and Jungkook’s head snaps in your direction.

“It’s for a class.”

You nod once. “Right.” You then scrape your throat, glance at the bathroom and then settle your eyes on him again. “I’ll be right back.”

He smiles at you, and it’s the last thing you see before you walk into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind you. Luckily enough, it’s still light enough outside for you to be able to shower without being in the dark, and as Jungkook advertised, there’s still hot water.

You take the fastest shower of your life, not wanting to risk running out of hot water, and then you put your dirty pants in the sink, soaking them in cold water. You put your clean clothes on – nothing impressive, just a pair of black sweatpants with a white t-shirt. You take one look at yourself in the mirror – you look like you’ve gone through hell, but at least you’re refreshed. 

With a steadying breath, you walk out of the bathroom, and your eyes immediately find Jungkook where he’s still sitting on the couch, looking like he hasn’t moved an inch. He glances at you before resuming his attention on his book. You feel awkward, yet you still walk in his direction because, frankly, what else is there for you to do when there’s no power?

“What’s the book about?” you enquire.

He raises it for you to see as you sit next to him. He moves too fast, and all you can see is something about trickle-down economy before the book is back in his lap.

“Looks boring.”

He laughs. “It is. Plus, trickle-down economics is bullshit.”

You nod wisely, even though your knowledge in the economy and business field is little to zero. All you know is that trickle-down economics is what rich people use to defend their actions, which immediately makes it so you don’t trust it one bit.

Eat the rich and all that.

“Right,” you let out.

Jungkook throws you a glance. “Feeling better?”

You don’t know how to answer. Because, yes, you feel somehow better now that you are clean and warmed from the shower, but you’re still very aware that the power is out, you’ve likely failed a midterm, and your date was cancelled.

“Sort of,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Today was just a shitshow.” 

He says nothing, but his big eyes on you entice you to open up to him, making you feel more at ease than you’ve ever been around him.

Maybe because you just need someone to vent to after all.

“Like… I woke up late this morning,” you tell him. “Arrived so late to my midterm that I couldn’t finish. Then realized that I forgot my wallet here and couldn’t eat lunch. Got stood up for a date tonight, and now no power here? This day has been the worst.”

You sit back on the couch after you’ve finished your tirade, and Jungkook just looks at you curiously. You don’t register you’ve called hanging out with Hoseok a date until Jungkook says, “You had a Valentine’s Day date?”

You shut your eyes, pinch the bridge of your nose and exhale loudly. “Sort of. Not really a date.”

“How can it not really be a date?”

You entirely miss the teasing in his voice, mostly because you’re appalled at yourself for the slipping. “It’s just… my friend with benefits, so not a date.”

“Damn, peach,” he says, and he bursts out laughing. You crack an eye open, your heart feeling like it’s been stabbed as Jungkook grins at you. “Didn’t think you were one to have a friend with benefits.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and his gaze slides away from you as his brows furrow slightly. “You’re Tae’s sister, and the way he talks about you I just… I don’t know.”

Annoyance creeps into you as you cock an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t listen to what Taehyung says about me. He still thinks I’m twelve.”

Jungkook snorts, and to your surprise, it makes you smile, right as he glances at you. 

“Are you not?”

“Yah!” You punch him in the shoulder, and he laughs as he massages the spot. “I’ll have you know I’m an adult.”

His features turn somber, and he plays with his piercing for a time before he answers. “I’m starting to realize it, trust me.”

In the somberness of his eyes, a spark ignites, and you feel as if electricity is running on every inch of your body. You wish it would run into the building instead, bringing the power back on but unfortunately, you’re the only victim, and all you can do is hold his gaze.

The moment stretches until you grow uncomfortable, and your eyes slide to the Switch under the TV, as if it’ll find solace there.

“Anyway,” you say, scraping your throat. “Apparently there’s still power at the dorms so I think I’ll head over there.”

“You’ll abandon me?” he says, faking offence. “Right when I offered to take care of your pants? The nerves on you.”

You roll your eyes as the awkwardness fades to be replaced by the annoyance Jungkook usually brings out of you. “You’re a big boy, you don’t need me.”

“You sure you want to walk all the way there though? What if you fall again?”

You push him as he smiles wickedly, satisfied that he’s annoyed you. “I hate you.”

“You know what you hate even more than me?”

Your brow creases in confusion. “What?”

He shrugs his shoulders, a smirk growing on his lips. “You’ll have to stay for me to answer.”

You sigh deeply, folding your arms on your chest. You gauge him, watch as his smirk only widens while you ponder staying here. And you don’t even know why you’re considering it in the first place. There’s just something about being able to talk to Jungkook like this, about being comfortable next to him that makes you want to stay.

“Name a single reason why I should stay,” you finally say.

His smirk turns victorious. “I’ll cook something for you.”

“The power is out,” you feel the need to remind him. 

He throws you a no-bullshit look. “Really, peach, you need to find a bit of creativity in your life.”

“What?”

“The stove doesn’t run on electricity, it runs on gas.”

You look up at the ceiling. “How was I supposed to know that, I barely ever cook.”

“I cook!” he bursts, waving the book around. You didn’t realize he was still holding it, and you laugh as the pages flutter around.  “And you usually steal my food, so just let me make something for you tonight.”

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze as he looks at you, faking annoyance. “What do you want to cook?”

“I have chicken that I need to cook tonight if I don’t want it to go bad,” he says. “I can make noodles with it.”

It takes you all but two seconds before you realize that there’s no way you’re going to leave when Jungkook is suggesting to cook for you. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” You nod, and Jungkook beams. “You won’t regret it.”

You laugh, slightly shaking your head as he puts the book away and gets up. He offers you his hand, the one with the tattoos on the back of it, and you furrow your brows. “What?”

“Go get changed,” he says, hand still extended between you. “I’ll give you a Valentine’s Day date, but you’re going to have to play the part too.”

Something stops in your chest – your heart, most likely – and you’re hit with the thought that this is a bad idea. That whatever Jungkook means by that is going to be the mistake of the century, yet you still find yourself accepting his extended hand.

He pulls you to your feet, and he doesn’t let go of your hand for a moment, big doe eyes widening slightly as he looks at you.

“You…” you trail off, scraping your throat as you look away from his eyes.

It’s all you can do not to get lost in his gaze. 

“I?” he presses, voice low.

“You should dress up too,” you mumble, cheeks burning. “So I’m not alone.”

He lets go of your hand, and your fingers twitch as it falls to your side. When his index finds your chin, you think your blood stops in your veins. He makes you tilt your head back, enough so that you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“I will.” His voice is grave, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your lips once as they part. “I’m going to make this worth it. You deserve it after such a shit day, don’t you?”

You gulp. “Yeah?”

He pats your cheek. “Yeah, you do.”

And then he’s walking away. You’re left standing there, heart racing in your chest, feeling so warm you think you’re about to catch fire. You watch him disappear into his room, and it’s only when he’s out of sight that you manage to move, making your way to your own room.

You shut the door behind you, resting against it as you take deep breaths to calm down. You’re not sure if it’s doing you any good, because this is Jungkook. Jungkook, with his tattoo sleeve and piercings, your older brother’s best friend. Your roommate, the man that’s been playing with you for weeks, for months, like you’re just some playdough. You think he’s doing it on purpose. He has to – he’s trying to make your life miserable because you’re Taehyung’s sister. You don’t see what else it could be. Because why the fuck would Jungkook act like this with you?

You’re not stupid enough to believe it isn’t your fault. Because you were there the night of The Incident, and you reckon things have changed with Jungkook since that night. 

You take a deep, steadying breath before pushing up from the door. No matter what it is that is making Jungkook act like this, you’re still curious to see what he’s preparing for you. Spending time with him like this, with no power and nothing else to do than talk…

Maybe it’s going to help you understand what’s happening in that thick skull of his. So you search for something to wear, something warm since the heating is also down. You settle on brown dress pants that you know make your ass look amazing, and you pair them with a pale beige wool turtleneck. You tuck the shirt in your pants, putting a belt on to make sure it stays in place, and then you take a good look at yourself in your standing mirror. Satisfied with your outfit, you make to move out of your room, but you stop with your hand halfway to the knob.

You can hear Jungkook humming in his room, a soft melody that’s making you think he’s taking a long time in there. Is he actually dressing up? It makes something terribly warm and soft settle in your chest, and you turn back around, grab your makeup pouch and head to your desk.

If this is a date, or whatever it is that Jungkook considers dates to be, you want to look good for it. So you put a little bit of makeup on, trusting your instinct to make it look great even though the light of your small mirror doesn’t turn on since there’s still no power. You hear Jungkook get out of his room before you’re done, and you hope he doesn’t decide to come here.

You doubt he would, but you somehow feel awkward as you’re getting ready. Because he’s your older brother’s best friend, because he’s a college fuckboy, because he’s been making you feel too many things lately – most of them you repress as if your life depends on it. And you think, your life does depend on it. Because nothing can happen between you and Jungkook; you wouldn’t do that to Taehyung. And mostly, you wouldn’t do that to Jungkook, because you know Taehyung would hate him if something did happen.

You sigh. It comes out shakily, a clear indication that you’re growing anxious, and you almost want to laugh at yourself. You want to tell yourself to get a grip, to just play along for things are bound to go back to normality when the power comes back. 

You only stop feeling anxious when Taehyung texts you, your phone lighting up where you’ve put it down on your desk.

[5:02 pm] bröther👽: jk texted me the same thing! Glad u won’t be alone tonight [5:02 pm] You: he’s gonna cook dinner [5:03 pm] bröther👽: lmao, jk doesn’t cook for girls, feel lucky

With that you realize that, indeed, you should feel lucky. Because Jungkook can be a friend, if not anything else. It’s reassuring, and you finish getting ready feeling lighter than you’ve felt all day, as if the hell that today was is all forgotten. 

You spray some perfume on the inside of your wrists, dabbing it on your neck before you finally declare yourself ready to head out of your room. You hope Jungkook won’t make fun of you – he’d be the kind of guy to make fun of you for this, you just know it – and you make your way to the kitchen, where you can hear him busying himself.

He’s brought his portable speaker out of his room. The one that also has a projector in it, and it shines northern lights on the walls and on the ceiling of the kitchen, giving it a cozy atmosphere. No music is playing as of right now, yet Jungkook is still humming, voice low yet melodious.

You rarely hear him sing, but anytime you do, you feel like your ears are blessed by an angel.

He reappears from where he was hidden in the fridge, and his mouth falls open as he catches sight of you. 

He’s wearing a white dress shirt. You think it’s made of linen – it doesn’t look particularly fancy. Yet the way he’s rolled it on his forearms is weirdly attractive, even though he’s only wearing grey sweatpants with it. It’s a look, a look you think only he can pull off. He’s taken the time to style his hair back, and he’s put on earrings you’ve only seen him wear a couple of times during parties.

He eyes you up and down, his doe eyes crinkling in appreciation. “You look good, peach.”

The compliment makes you blush, and you offer him a small smile. He echoes it right away, and he holds up a bottle of rosé that you bought two months ago and forgot all about since then.

“Wine?” you let out as you stop in front of him. You feel awkward because, obviously, it’s wine, but you still hold his gaze as he nods.

“It’s yours but…” He shrugs, glancing at the label. “I figured it’d work well with the chicken.”

You nod once. “Sure, we can drink it.”

It makes him happy. You can see it in the way he beams, and then he puts it down on the counter with the rest of the ingredients. When he moves, you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you feel your cheeks burn again. You glance outside – the rain has stopped, but grey clouds are still looming in the sky as the world slowly darkens. You wonder if they’ll go away some time tonight – without the light pollution, you reckon you’d be able to stargaze.

You end up helping Jungkook with the cooking, chopping some vegetables as he takes care of the meat. You’re not particularly hungry, so you take your time, talking about everything and nothing. Jungkook is good at this, you realize. He’s good at changing your mind, at making sure it doesn’t wander back to your midterm and to the rest of your shitty day. He makes you laugh, cracking stupid jokes whenever you do something, smirking at you when you roll your eyes.

Being with him like this also makes you understand why he’s Taehyung’s friend. He feels more natural this way, less fuckboy-ish, and it’s a side of him you’ve never really seen before.

You sit at the kitchen table, sharing a glass of the rosé wine while the food simmers on the stove. Jungkook’s put on an indie music playlist before you started cooking – something you teased him about. Who knew Jeon Jungkook likes indie music?

“How was Tae before college?” Jungkook asks all of a sudden when there’s a lull in the conversation. “He barely talks about high school.”

You know the exact reason why, and her name is Youna. Taehyung’s ex, his high school sweetheart. The one that moved to the other side of the country without ever once looking back.

“He was an idiot,” you answer, and Jungkook laughs. “No, seriously. He dated the same girl all through high school. Was convinced he was going to marry her.”

“That sounds on brand with Tae,” Jungkook says, nodding his head wisely. “He said that about every girl he’s dated in college, but most of them don’t last more than a few weeks.”

You wince. “Remember Hailey from last semester?”

She lasted about three weeks, but she spent most of those at the apartment. It was the only three weeks where Jungkook and you had talked more than just small talk – or his usual teasing. Mostly because you kept complaining about her, and Jungkook kept saying you were cute when you were mad.

Come to think of it, it still was teasing.

“Fuck, her voice,” Jungkook lets out, shaking his head. “I’m sure she was faking having such a high voice. I don’t know how Taehyung could deal with that.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and Jungkook smiles as he watches you. “I swear to God, I was about to kick Tae out of the apartment,” you say. “I’m glad she didn’t last.”

“Agreed.”

There’s another silence as the song switches on Jungkook’s speaker. You take a sip of wine, appreciating the taste, and Jungkook gets up to check the food on the stove. He comes back a moment later, sitting back next to you.

You think he’s closer. He feels closer, and the smell of his cologne fills your nose again. 

“You put on some cologne,” you state, and it startles you somehow. You weren’t expecting to say that and, clearly, Jungkook wasn’t expecting it either.

“Yeah.” He looks down at himself as if the cologne is visible on him. “Do you like it?”

You gulp. “Yeah, you smell good.”

He smirks, nodding his head. “You too, peach. I love the vanilla scent.”

You don’t know what to do with the compliment. You mutter a thank you before taking a large sip of wine, and Jungkook chuckles before following your lead.

“Do you think Tae and that girl in France will last?” you ask. “He still hasn’t told me who she is.”

Indeed, he’s remained evasive whenever you’ve asked. You stalked the people that are with him on the semester abroad, and you think two of the girls could be your brother’s type, but it’s hard to tell.

“Oh,” Jungkook lets out. He grabs his phone, resting his forearms on the table as he opens it. He goes on Instagram, and as it loads, he glances at you. “He’s told me. Let me show you.”

“What!” you exclaim. “How come he told you and not me?”

Jungkook chuckles. “No idea. But here.”

He shows you the girl’s profile, and you take his phone as you scroll through the pictures. To your surprise, she’s not one of the two girls you stalked. She looks shy, barely showing her face in her pictures, most of them being of nature anyway. Come to think of it, you do get a romantic vibe from her feed, and you reckon that would work well with Taehyung. 

You’re about to give Jungkook his phone back when it vibrates in your hand, a notification appearing at the top. 

[6:05 pm] Shelly 💦🍒: are u gonna be here soon?

It’s not your fault that you read it, and your gaze widens as you look up from the device. Jungkook hasn’t noticed, and he smiles at you, seemingly expectant.

“So?” he asks.

“You had a date tonight?”

His mouth falls open. He looks guilty, eyes widening and taking a sheepish expression. He remains silent, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he thinks of what to answer.

You don’t know how to feel. You feel bad for the girl – Shelly – who’s clearly waiting for Jungkook somewhere. You feel bad that he chose to stay with you because you were upset, but mostly you feel strange that he’s doing all of this for you when there’s someone waiting for him. 

The emojis next to her name are enough of an explanation of what she is to Jungkook. Still, you feel increasingly uncomfortable, even more so as he says nothing.

“What the fuck, JK?”

“She’s no one,” he says when you get up. “Trust me, I’ve only hung out with her a couple of times.”

You laugh, and it’s somehow void of joy. “Why would I care?”

He looks at the glasses of wine, and then at the food on the stove. “I don’t know… because we’re…” He motions between you, and then at said glasses of wine and food. “I just forgot to tell her I wasn’t going to come over.”

It’s enough of a reminder that Jungkook, for all his current kindness, is a renowned college fuckboy. It reminds you of all the times you’ve heard him fuck – was Shelly one of the girls? You feel disgusted, and you walk out of the kitchen, not wanting to look at Jungkook right now.

“Peach,” he says as he follows you out in the darkness of the living room.

The living room is also strangely cold, and you shiver as you turn towards him. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But why are you even reacting like this?”

You scoff. “I don’t know, Jungkook, you tell me.”

You can’t see his expression. But when he takes a step closer to you, you feel the heat of his body radiating in the space between you.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, and you hear the smirk in his voice.

“No,” you say, and you scoff again. “I’m weirded out.”

“Because I was going to fuck someone tonight?” It’s his turn to scoff when you remain silent. “Weren’t you going to fuck that dude? Hoseok?”

You don’t know how he remembers Hoseok’s name, but he’s got a point. You wet your lips, tongue poking your cheek next. “Right.”

“Come on, peach, just come back in the kitchen,” he says. He grabs your hand, and your breath gets caught in your throat as he escorts you back to the chair where you were sitting. You begrudgingly follow, and when you’re seated he towers over you.

You tilt your head back. “What?”

He flicks your nose, and you dodge a second too late. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “I wasn’t jealous I was just weirded out.”

He smiles at you wickedly. “Of course, peach. Of course.”

He sounds so cocky you want to hate him, but all you can do is glare at the table. He pushes your wine glass towards you as he sits back next to you and you wordlessly take it to chug it.

“Now that that’s done,” he says once you’ve put it back on the table, “what do you think of Tae’s girl?”

You had all but forgotten why you were holding Jungkook’s phone in the first place. You recall her Instagram to the forefront of your mind, pursing your lips. 

“She looks chill,” you answer.

Jungkook pouts. “Just that?”

You shrug. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Well,” Jungkook starts. “For one I can’t believe she’s Tae’s type. She looks nothing like the girls he dated here. Like just think about Hailey?”

You just nod, because in truth you fully agree with him. 

“Her Instagram is a vibe though,” Jungkook continues. “Tae is big on vibes so… maybe it works?”

You nod once more, tilting your head to the side as you really think about it. Because frankly you’d like for Taehyung to find someone that lasts. As much as you know he’s been having fun in college, you know his happiness usually lies in a healthy relationship like the one he had with his ex. 

“Hopefully it does,” you finally say. “Tae deserves it.”

Jungkook looks at you, somber expression on his features as he plays with his piercing. It makes your heart cease in your chest, and you busy yourself with refilling the wine glasses as he remains silent.

“He does,” Jungkook eventually replies. “He actually really does.”

He sounds so serious you throw him a questioning glance. “Yeah?”

He blinks once, as if stepping out of a daze before flashing his infuriating smirk at you again. “Definitely.”

There’s an awkward silence, and you watch as he takes a sip of wine before getting up to check on the food. He deems it ready, and makes two bowls, one for you and one for him. He sets yours in front of you, a proud smile on his lips.

“Smells good,” you compliment him as he sits.

He winks at you. “Wait till you taste.”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, and you take a tentative bite, holding his gaze as he expectantly waits.

“Shit,” you let out, and you fan your mouth with your hand. “Why is it so spicy?”

“Don’t tell me you’re like your brother and can’t stand spicy food,” he complains as you take a long sip of wine.

You put your wine glass back down, wincing as it clinks against the bowl. It fortunately doesn’t break, and you push it away from the dish as you chuckle. “What’s wrong with not liking spicy food?”

He pouts. “You guys are so weak.”

You fake-glare at him. “This shit is so spicy it would wake the dead.”

He snorts, stifling his laugh until you meet his gaze and you burst out laughing at the same time. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him guffaw like this. His laugh is contagious, pretty, and you’re convinced it can have healing effects.

You’re convinced it has healing effects. Indeed, in that instant, you finally really forget about the day, the heaviness it left behind dwindling into nothingness. It’s replaced with happiness, and chatter with Jungkook becomes easier, more natural. 

You realize he smiles a lot. You make him laugh a lot too, and whenever he does you feel your heart flutter in your chest. You don’t like the feeling, know it’s a mistake, but with the wine, all you can do is try to make him laugh some more, and smile whenever he does.

You’re on your first beer after finishing the wine – and the overly spicy food, which Jungkook congratulated you profusely for finishing. You’ve talked about every subject that’s come to your mind so far, none feeling taboo with Jungkook. He eventually tells you about Shelly – she is indeed one of the girls you’ve heard him sleep with – and you laugh as he admits he’s really happy he didn’t have to see her tonight.

You can’t help but snort. “Jeon Jungkook, saying no to sex? I’ve heard everything.”

“Bruh.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Is your opinion of me so low you think sex is the most important thing to me?”

His eyes are gleaming with mischief in the light of his speaker, which will apparently run out of battery soon. You both don’t care, and you’ve lit a candle in case it does die. Its sweet fragrance has been chasing the smell of the food away, and it’s been giving the kitchen a homey vibe, even as it’s growing chilly.

“Is it not?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you. “Not at all.”

You throw him a no-bullshit look that makes him frown cutely. 

“How long can you go without having sex?” you ask him, holding in a laugh.

He narrows his doe eyes at you. “At least a few weeks.”

“A few weeks? That’s nothing!”

“Yah,” he bursts, and he laughs as you snort. “Peach, just because I have casual sex doesn’t mean I can’t stop if I want to.”

“Then stop,” you challenge him.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Give me one reason why I should.”

“To prove a point?”

His eyes narrow further, but if you’ve understood one thing about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he doesn’t step down from a challenge. No, as competitive as he is, you’re pretty sure he’ll do it.

“Peach,” he purrs, and it has something warm form in the pit of your stomach. “Is it really about me proving a point, or is it about you being jealous?”

You choke on the sip of beer you were taking, which only makes him laugh. You think it’s a little condescending, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. You still punch him in the shoulder for it, unable to resist.

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask. “Hobi fucks me good.”

Jungkook shuts his eyes and his nose scrunches. He shakes his head once before looking at you again. “I didn’t want to know that.”

You smile as if you’ve never done anything wrong in your whole life. “Your loss.”

He laughs at that, gaze dropping to the table. Silence grows between you, but it’s comfortable, not like what silence with Hoseok feels like. With Hoseok you feel the need to speak whenever there’s a lull in the conversation but, right now, you’re content with just sitting back in your chair, sipping on your beer.

To your surprise, Jungkook starts singing over the song, gaze lost in his own glass of beer. His voice settles deep inside of you, resonating in your soul, and you just look at him, awe clouding your mind.

You’re not sure he’s realized he’s singing. Because when he meets your gaze, he lets out a small laugh. “Why are you looking at me like this?”

“You have a beautiful voice,” you whisper.

It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but you’re pretty sure his cheeks have turned pink. “Nah.”

“No, I’m serious,” you insist. “I often hear you hum and… you sing really well.”

His nose scrunches up again. “Stop it.”

“Just take the compliment,” you say, laughing as he plays with his piercing.

You reckon it might be the first time in your life you’ve ever seen Jeon Jungkook shy. Because he clearly is, and he looks away from you, running his hand through his hair. It undoes the hairstyle, and a strand falls on his forehead.

You’ve never felt such a visceral need to brush your hand through someone’s hair before. You manage to resist, busying yourself with holding your beer instead.

“M’kay,” he lets out. “Thanks, peach.”

His voice is soft. Softer than the fur of a puppy, and it makes the warm thing in you grow. You gulp, wetting your lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance at your mouth, and he looks conflicted for half a second before he smirks again.

“We should have hung out like this before,” he declares.

“Yeah?” is all you can answer.

You feel yourself leaning in. You haven’t even realized how close you’re sitting to him until you’re leaning in. He does too. He leans forward, tilting his head to the side slightly. He looks surprised, even more so when one of your hands finds the back of his neck, pulling him closer until you’ve erased the distance between you.

You both didn’t close your eyes. And you both look startled from your lips touching, so much so that you let go of him, straightening away from him. He, on the other hand, hasn’t moved, and his gaze goes fully serious before he grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer to him again.

This time, when your mouths meet, you shut your eyes, sighing softly as he kisses you. His piercings press into your lower lip, and as his mouth moves against you, you feel the warm thing inside of you grow so big it bursts. It bursts the same way fireworks do – in an explosion of colours that leaves you waiting for more.

He doesn’t disappoint. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss. His hand on your arm moves up until it rests on your shoulder before he decides better and moves it to the side of your neck. His thumb swipes at your jaw, gently, and it’s his turn to sigh in the kiss.

When his tongue darts out of his mouth, you meet it with your own. For a reason unknown, you expect it to make you both grow horny, but the kiss remains soft, slow like you have all of eternity stretched out in front of you.

Even though it’s languid, even though it’s soft, you grow dizzy, head spinning as you taste the beer in Jungkook’s mouth. As his hand moves to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You rest one hand on his chest, right above his heart, and you feel the organ racing under your fingers. It makes you grab a handful of fabric as if that will anchor you in the present.

As if that will make you forget that you’re kissing your brother’s best friend. 

It does, though you reckon it might be the way Jungkook shifts in his chair, moving so that you can straddle him. And he pulls you in, softly, tugging on your arm until you let go of the shirt and drape it over his shoulder. You sit on him, legs on each side of him, your toes barely even touching the floor. Still, your mouths move in unison, his lips petal soft against yours. 

Your other arm circles his neck too, until you’re holding him against you. His large hands land on your waist, gently, and his thumbs stroke you, barely even grazing you over the thick fabric of your wool turtleneck.

You don’t know how long you kiss. It just seems like you both don’t want to stop, like you both know the moment you stop will be a wake-up call, one you’d rather avoid while you get stuck in this bubble of eternity with him. The fireworks keep on shining bright, warm summer sun blooming in your heart as if this, this was always meant to be.

Oxygen is futile when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. Not needed, as if he breathes air into your lungs. You think he does, and you sigh once more as your hands get lost in the hair on the back of his head.

The next swipe of his tongue is sharper, carries more intent, and you both startle, finally parting from each other. Though you remain a hairsbreadth away, longing for his lips the moment your mouths aren’t connected anymore.

Immobile, you breathe in shakily, and you hear him do it too. He’s still stroking you, gently, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in. You rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in the clean laundry smell of his shirt, along with the scent of his cologne as you turn your face towards his neck.

The moment stretches some more, as you listen to the music. His grip around you loosens as you press a soft kiss on the mole you’ve discovered on his neck. He pushes you back, gently, until your back is against the table. Your gazes meet then, and you wonder if his eyes always shine like this. Do they always hold the light of the universe in them, or did you set fire to his gaze?

He gulps and his mouth falls open. His pupils fill with something you can’t quite put your finger on, yet it has clouds taking over the summer sun in your heart until the beating organ goes cold.

“Now you’ve had a fake Valentine’s Day kiss,” he murmurs, and the fireworks burst into a void that tastes like ash as you interpret his gaze.

He’s regretting this. It takes over all of his features, turning his big doe eyes into hearths of remorse. It finishes dousing the sun in your heart until the star goes to sleep, and all that’s left is the echoes of what once was.

“Fake?” is all you manage to let out.

He shuts his eyes, eyelids fluttering close softly. He looks like an angel repenting as he rests his forehead against yours, forcing your own eyes shut from the proximity.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he reminds you, reality sinking into his words. 

You nod against him before pulling away. You try to get up, but his hands on your waist hold you in place.

“Let me go,” you whisper. 

He does so, albeit reluctantly, arms falling to his sides in a defeated manner. You try to not let yourself think about it too much, try to forget what just happened as you stand up, moving away from him.

Without his body heat you shiver, and you hate yourself for the next words you say.

“We should share a room tonight. It’s going to be cold.”

His eyes shoot open as he turns his head towards you, surprise replacing the reality. As if he thought he ruined everything, and you think maybe he did. Maybe he did ruin everything, but you don’t even want to be thinking about it right now. You just want to go to sleep, to let the night pass.

Maybe the insanity will go with it.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “You know, Taehyung doesn’t have to know everything.”

Jungkook slowly gets up, facing you. You gulp as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, hand going to your chin again. He leans in, forcing you to tilt your head back until his lips find yours again.

It lasts a fraction of a second, yet it leaves you scrambling for breath as he takes a step back. He nods as you meet his gaze, an eyebrow cocked in question.

“We can sleep in your room,” he says. “It’s smaller, it’s going to be easier to keep it warm.”

Right as he finishes his sentence the battery of his speaker dies, and silence surrounds you as the northern lights go to sleep. The light flickers in time with the flame of the candle, and you glance at it.

“Sounds good,” you agree, and you wet your lips as you look at him again. His big doe eyes still shine even with just the candlelight, and you wish the world was different. Wish that he wasn’t Tae’s friend, that you could just grab him and have him kiss you stupid again. But he’s right. You shouldn’t be doing this.

Sharing a bed is only practical. Only because it’s cold, and you have to survive the night. A voice at the very back of your mind tells you that you could head over to the dorms, but you don’t want to.

You want to remain here, in this instant outside of the linear timeline of your life.

“Maybe you should get your bed covers?” you suggest. “So we don’t get cold.”

He smiles, so far from his usual smirk and grin that you feel a pang in your chest. “Yeah. Yes, that’s a good idea.”

All of five minutes later, he meets you in your room. You’ve changed into your previous outfit, and he’s swiped his dress shirt for an oversized white Nike t-shirt. He’s holding his bed cover to his chest, just a white bundle that he offers you as if he’s trying to make peace with you. You motion to your bed, and he nods before walking over to it.

You shut the door behind him, turning to look at him as he debates for a few seconds where to sleep in your bed. He starts by putting his bed cover over yours and then chooses to sit at the foot of the bed, on the side that’s against the wall.

He then turns to meet your gaze, his profile cast in the flickering light of the candle from the kitchen and the few others you’ve lit while waiting for him.

“I think this is the first time I’ve been in this room since Jimin moved out,” he tells you, and his lips stretch into that same soft smile.

You glance around, pursing your lips. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint.”

“It doesn’t,” he reassures you as he imitates your action, observing your room. “It feels like you.”

Not knowing what’s that supposed to mean, you cock an eyebrow. “Does it?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t explain further, and you shrug it off as you move closer to your bed to sit on the edge. The moment you’re in his vicinity your heart picks up in your chest. It’s hard to believe that Jeon Jungkook is in your bed right now, and you have to remind yourself that it’s purely because it currently is freezing in your apartment. 

“Should we…” you trail off, motioning at the bed.

He chuckles, a sweet sound that forces you to gaze at him, eyes widening as your heartbeat picks up even more. “You want me in your bed so bad, do you?”

You short-circuit, flushing fully red as you struggle to find something witty to reply with. Falling short on words, you end up shrugging your shoulders as you move under the covers, hoping he won’t tease you further. 

You highly doubt you’d survive him teasing you more.

To your relief, Jungkook ends up chuckling again, but he remains silent as he slides in next to you, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. You lie on your back, while he turns to face you, and you feel the weight of his gaze on your profile.

It makes you turn to look at him, and he offers you the same kind smile.

“Shouldn’t we blow the candles out?” he asks, and his gaze darts to where you’ve left the candles on your desk and night table. “Just to make sure we don’t burn the building down.”

“You want to go to sleep right away?”

You hate yourself for saying that. Indeed, a smirk grows on his lips and he jumps on the occasion to say, “You want to do something else?”

Something grows hot inside of you, and it’s not that same summer sun he ignited in you earlier. You wet your lips, burning from the inside out as you remind him, “We shouldn’t.”

He chuckles again. “Didn’t you say he doesn’t need to know?”

You meet his gaze, find the mischief behind his big doe eyes and roll yours. “You’re annoying.”

Right on cue you shiver. It takes you by surprise, because you feel your insides burning, yet the temperature in your room is low, winning against the warmth.

“Are you cold?” he asks, no traces of mischief left in his eyes. Only concern can be found in his pupils, and you want to hate him for it.

“A little,” you admit. “The covers are just cold.”

They actually are, as your bodies have yet to warm them. To your surprise, Jungkook sidles closer to you. 

“I can hold you, if you want. I’m always too hot.”

You burn a thousand shades of red as you wet your lips. “You don’t have to.”

“Come on, peach, I won’t let you freeze while I’m right here.”

Yet he doesn’t do anything, waits until you’ve nodded your head to slide even closer, and he loosely wraps his arm around your waist. His warm breath fans the side of your face, and you do your best to ignore it.

“Better?” he asks, voice low as he whispers in your ear.

You shut your eyes as electricity courses through your whole body. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Your brain zeroes in on the weight of his arm on you, and when his fingers start tracing random figures on your waist, you let out a small yelp.

“That tickles,” you tell him.

He does it again, and you try to push him away. Only, Jungkook is far stronger than you, and all you manage to do is end up with your back against him as he holds you firmly to him.

“Stop,” you beg, a little breathlessly.

“It’s warming you up, is it not?”

You roll your eyes, though you reckon it is. You don’t feel nearly as cold anymore, and you can feel the heat growing in you again. As an attempt to get away from him, you shuffle, and it earns you a breathless chuckle from him.

Just to make sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing, you move your hips again. Something twitches in his sweatpants and your mouth falls open.

“You’re…”

“Consequences of the position,” he’s quick to say. “Don’t worry about it.”

You don’t know how you possibly can not worry about it. It’s all your brain can focus on as you shift again, and this time he hisses.

“Maybe you should not do that.” His voice is low, husky, and it sends shivers all over your body. 

You bite your lips. “Why?”

He pulls you back in, flush against his chest. His lips ghost on the side of your neck, and you think you’ve been struck with lightning. “Because we can’t do anything about it.”

“Right.”

He rests his head on the pillow behind you again, sighing deeply. His hand holds you against him, forcing you to feel every inch of his hard body pressing into you.

Of his hard dick too, where it pushes into your ass.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” you say, eyes fluttering shut.

He nods. “We should.”

“I need to blow out the candles.”

His arm loosens around you before he fully lets you go. You prop yourself on an elbow, leaning towards the night table. You blow out the candle you’ve left there, and before you can move you feel Jungkook’s palm resting on your hip.

“Shit, peach,” he whispers.

You look behind yourself. Your position is explicit, as if you’re angling yourself to fuck yourself on him better. It makes you move your hips, and you see the moment something snaps inside of him.

“Why don’t you lie down next to me before we blow the rest of the candles out?”

There’s something stern, authoritative in his voice, and you immediately obey him. 

“On your back,” he adds.

You exhale shakily as you turn, not daring to disobey. His hand lands flat on your stomach, and he starts drawing circles around your navel. You inhale sharply as he nudges your cheek with his nose.

“You look stressed.”

“What are you doing?”

You hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Helping you fall asleep?”

“Jungkook…”

“Peach.”

You fall silent as he keeps tracing circles. He sighs next to you, almost longingly and he rests his forehead against your temple. His lips are so close you think you feel their softness on your cheek.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers. His fingers still on you, under your navel. Some inch or so over the band of your sweatpants and he pushes your shirt up before resuming his actions directly on your skin.

“We really shouldn’t…” you trail off.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” he asks.

It’s rhetorical – he knows just as well as you that you won’t. “No.”

“It could help you sleep.”

You don’t want to know what the ‘it’ refers to. “Yeah?”

He wets his lips, or maybe he plays with his piercing. But from the proximity, you feel his tongue and you think you’re going to die right then and there.

“Doesn’t it help you sleep when you touch yourself?”

You’re soaking your panties. You’re burning up, caught on fire by every strike of lightning that Jungkook’s words ignite in you.

“Does it help you?” you counter-back, remembering when you heard him watching porn two weeks ago.

“It does. Always sleep soundly after.”

You slowly nod, gulping as his lips close on your jaw, and he sucks gently. 

He’s danger in human form. And he knows what he’s doing, he knows how to weave words to cause your undoing. You think he’s already started weeks ago, the night of the Incident. 

Taehyung is miles away from your thoughts when you say, “You want to touch me?”

He smirks against you, licks at the spot he just sucked on. “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?”

He moves his hand away from your stomach, and you moan softly when he parts your thighs open, resting his palm on the one closest to him as he presses it against his hard dick.

“Shit, Jungkook.”

“I know.”

You hate him. You hate him so much you slide your hand between your legs, pressing a circle on your clit.

“Good girl.”

You moan again, yet you stop your ministrations on yourself. “I want to watch you touch yourself too.”

He grunts, grinds his dick in the side of your thigh once more. “You want to see me come?”

“Want you to finger me with your cum.”

You’ve gone insane. You think there’s an asylum out there for you, yet Jungkook only chuckles manly against your jaw. “Peach, I won’t touch you tonight.” You whine, and he sucks on your jaw again. “You can do it yourself.”

He’s mad. So are you, and you untie the knot of your sweatpants so you can slide your hand in. You moan softly as you find your clit, and you dip two fingers inside of yourself before moving back to the bundle of nerves.

“Jerk yourself off,” you tell him. You try to sound commanding, dominant, but your voice is whiny. It earns you a smirk from him as he turns on his back. He takes off his pants and underwear, clearly not as shy as you. You can’t see his dick when you look down as he’s still under the covers, and you gulp as you imagine it.

Feeling bold, you push the covers off, needing to see him. And the sight doesn’t disappoint. His dick is large. Not excessively long, but the girth makes you understand why he’s got girls screaming whenever he fucks them. His tip is glistening with precum, and he runs his thumb on the slit before spreading the precum on his shaft. Large veins run along the length, from base to top, and you’re struck thinking he’s got the prettiest cock you’ve seen in your life.

“Like what you see?” he teases as he strokes his dick once, slowly but with a firm grip.

“Do you want to see me too?”

You really are bold. Far bolder than you’ve ever been with anyone before. Maybe because all of tonight Jungkook has put you at ease, and you think there’s nothing embarrassing about finally living out your fantasy. Especially not when he’s so pliable to it, willing to follow you into the land of insanity.

Scratch that – he’s the one leading to madness.

“It’s only fair if I see you too, no?” he teases with a smirk on his lips as he looks at you with his dark, intense gaze.

“Yeah.”

It’s all you say before you shimmy out of your pants. You don’t miss the way his eyes go to your hip, where you have a large dragon tattoo. He curses under his breath. “Didn’t know you were tatted.”

“Got it last semester,” you answer with a shaky voice.

He smirks up at you. “Hot.”

You gulp, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Shier than him, you keep the panties on. To your surprise, he sits up, runs his hand on the inside of your thigh before he lies down on the other side so he has a view of between your legs. His feet are next to your head, and you angle yourself away from them so that they aren’t in your face anymore.

“Touch yourself, peach.”

You nod, and you draw circles on your clit through the fabric of your underwear. It’s a plain black thong, yet you feel immensely sexy when Jungkook’s doe eyes narrow dangerously as he watches you touching yourself, stroking his dick lazily.

You watch how he touches himself, heart beating out of your chest. You’re on fire, a wildfire raging through you, and you moan softly as you press harder into you.

“Why don’t you touch yourself under your panties, mmh?” he asks, gaze sliding up to meet yours before he goes back between your legs. “Won’t it feel better?”

You can’t resist him. You push your panties to the side, holding them with one hand as you go back to your clit. Your thighs instinctively want to close together, but he holds them open.

“Put your fingers in.”

You do. You push two digits in, arching them as you rub at the sweet spot inside of you. He watches, licking his lips as he increases the pace on his dick. You moan right as he grunts, the sound making shivers course up and down your spine.

“Why don’t you use your vibrator instead?”

You entirely stop moving, digits deep inside of you. “Huh?”

“I’ve heard you use a vibrator,” he explains. “I want to see you bury it in your tight little pussy.”

Your walls clench around your fingers at his crude words, and it doesn’t take any more for you to roll towards your night table so you can grab said vibrator. When you’re settled back in your previous position, you click it on, and the soft buzzing fills your room.

“Wait,” Jungkook says, stopping you before you’ve pushed your panties aside again. “Take this off.”

He pinches the fabric on your hip, over the tattoo, and all you can do is nod once before you do. He licks his lips, looking at you appreciatively through half-lidded eyes. He looks between your legs, where you just know he can see your juices glistening. Before he says anything else, you put the vibrator on your clit, legs twitching as harsh pleasure courses through you.

To your surprise, he moans, a low sound that has your pussy clench hard. Of course he sees, and he’s quick to say, “Put it in, peach.”

You obey, and you let out a breathy sound as you immediately rub your clit with your other hand. The next few minutes are a world of bliss, of pleasure and of Jungkook’s praises and grunts, entwined with your moans. You think your room is burning hot, or maybe it’s just his eyes on you. His balls are tight as he jerks off harder, faster, eyes never once moving away from the spot between your legs, where your vibrator makes squelching sounds as you push it in and out of you.

“You’re doing so well,” Jungkook tells you after you’ve moaned loudly. 

You’re nearing your high, but for some reason, you haven’t been able to hit it yet. His words bring you closer, yet it remains just barely out of touch.

“So fucking well,” he adds, breathlessly, and you notice he’s gripping his dick harder, moving so fast you barely can see his hand, except when it slows on his head with a flick of his wrist. He moans, grunts loudly. “You’re so hot, I’m going to come.”

“Fuck,” you curse as you watch him push his shirt up, and you catch sight of his defined muscles. They contract as he jerks himself off, and you think you’re drooling.

Maybe because you’re so close to hitting an orgasm that you can’t do anything other than drool.

He glances at your face once. You meet his gaze, blood boiling as you see his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes loudly. His eyelids flutter close as his eyebrows bunch up over his eyes even more, and then he moans out something that sounds like your name.

Not ‘peach’. Your full name. It makes your eyes water as you observe him, as you watch how he looks in pain. And then he curses, and your eyes fall to his dick to see white spurts of cum coming out, covering the tattoos on the back of his hand as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

Your walls clench tightly around your vibrator. You think you’re about to come, but the orgasm doesn’t want to hit, evading you frustratingly. Your motions grow inconsistent, the push and the pull of the vibrator clearly not enough for you.

As Jungkook comes down from his high, he surveys you once more, features blissed out from coming. He watches you struggle as his hand stops at the base of his dick.

“Look at the mess I made because of you,” he says, and you moan. He tilts his head to the side, pulls at his piercing, and then stops you. Puts his hand over yours between your legs as the vibrator rests deep inside of you. “Do you need help?”

You feel some of his cum as it spills from his hand to yours. You keep rubbing on your clit, meeting his gaze as he awaits your answer. “Yes.”

He smirks, and you let him grab your vibrator. He pulls it out of you, watches your juice on it with a hungry look on his features before he hands it to you again. “Put this on your clit.”

You obey, and you sigh in pleasure as he covers two of his fingers with his cum, even picking some up where it fell on his abdomen, decorating his defined abs. You know exactly what he’s going to do before he does, and it makes you curse.

He meets your gaze. “Are you on the pill?”

“IUD.”

He smirks. “Good girl.”

And then he pushes his cum-covered fingers inside of you, arching them to expertly play with your g-spot. You cry out, throwing your head back in pleasure. He fucks you with his digits for a while, and you press your vibrator hard on your clit, as if it’s going to make you come faster.

All it does is make you close your thighs on his wrist. He pulls his fingers out, forces you to spread your legs wide open again, and then circles your entrance with one finger.

“It’s so hot, to watch my cum dripping out of you.”

His digits are in again before you can reply, and he fucks you so well, you crash right into your orgasm, walls spasming around his fingers. You moan, loudly so, and tears prick at your eyes as the waves of your orgasm drown everything in you, making you shake with pleasure.

You ride the high for a long time. Longer than you’ve ever had before, and Jungkook whispers filthy praises to you all through it, until you cringe with oversensitivity and turn off the vibrator. You put it down next to you, and Jungkook pushes in and out twice more before he pulls his fingers out of you.

You remain silent for a while, both of you regaining your breath. Once you stop feeling like you’re seconds away from passing out, you prop yourself on your elbows, watching him. He’s still looking between your legs, and you instinctively close them.

His eyes shoot to your face, and he smirks. “You have no idea how hot you are with my cum dripping out of you, peach.”

You bite your lip, so hard you think you taste blood. “Shit.”

“I know.”

“What did we do?”

He shrugs, sucking on his piercing. “We made sure we’ll sleep well, that’s all.”

You sigh, nodding once before you lie back down on the bed. “Shit,” you repeat.

This time he laughs. It’s a soft sound, something that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. For some reason, it reminds you of the kiss in the kitchen, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Even more so as he says, “Let me go get something to clean you up with.”

He pulls his boxers up and then gets up. You miss the way he winces as his feet hit the cold floor, and he’s back with a washcloth before you’ve had time to realize he was gone.

“I’m sorry, there was no hot water left.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He chuckles as he sits next to you. “Do you want to do it or…?”

You nod, and you grab the washcloth out of his hands before cleaning yourself up. It really is cold, and you wince, one eye shutting as you make sure you’re clean before handing it back to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

“I don’t know?” 

He laughs, still grabbing it before throwing it in your hamper. “Did you want to pee before going to bed?”

You nod again. “I should.”

“Are you okay to get there?”

You roll your eyes, finally finding some of your usual defiance. “You didn’t fuck me, Jungkook, I can still use my legs.”

“Right,” he lets out before chuckling. “I’ll wait for you here then.”

The trip to the bathroom is the worst you’ve ever experienced, with how cold it is in the rest of the apartment. You’re pleased that your room is warm when you come back, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you see Jungkook lying on his side, looking at you as you enter and shut the door behind you.

He smiles warmly at you. “Better?”

“Why is it so cold?” you complain, which makes him laugh that cute, giggly laugh of his. You immediately look away from him, not wanting him to see the blush on your cheeks.

You blow the rest of the candles out, and in the dark, you make your way to your bed. You slide under the covers, sighing at how warm they are now.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Jungkook says as you settle next to him.

You gulp. “What?”

“You said you were going to go to the dorms,” he reminds you, even though that was an eternity ago. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Oh,” you let out. You’re happy it’s dark because your cheeks burn so much you imagine you’ve turned purple. “I’m glad I stayed too.”

He sighs, and you feel the mattress move as he shifts. “Do you want to cuddle?” he asks. “For warmth.”

You snort, and even though you’re in the dark, you nod. 

“Sure.”

A few seconds later, you’re the small spoon again, and he holds you close to him. He sighs once more, and it ends with a yawn that has you laugh softly.

“Tired?” you tease him.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, nuzzling his face in your hair. “I’m going to sleep like a rock.”

So are you. Even if you shouldn’t, even if you and Jungkook probably committed a big mistake tonight, you still know you’re going to sleep soundly.

Especially as his breathing evens out behind you, interrupted by soft snores here and there. It forms a melody that lulls you to the land of dreams, to a land where you can forget that he’s Taehyung’s best friend, and where you can imagine that he’s yours after all. It’s idyllic, unreal, yet your sleeping form clings to it like it’s a lifeline in a storm.

You just know that reality is bound to hit again soon.

Prev | Chapter 3.5 | Next

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Oooooof yep. They really did that hehehe. What did you guys think? Did you like it? Let me know!!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

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Reblog if you like this story

[chaysreality222]

‧₊˚ ⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.✧˖ °

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 𝐈 𝐒𝓗𝐈𝐅𝓣𝐄𝐃 𝓑𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝓞 𝓐𝐍 𝓤𝐍𝓚𝐍𝓞𝐖𝐍 𝓡𝐄𝐀𝓛𝐈𝐓𝓨 . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

i'm beyond happy to be making a post like this. as you can tell by the title, I'VE SHIFTED! but the catch is i shifted to some unknown reality. still extremely proud of myself and happy, but there's just an ounce of disappointment that it wasn't one of my scripted drs. i've been waiting to tell you guys about it, so let's get into it!

the night of june 24th, 2024, i had chose to take the night off from attempting to shift and just sleep because the previous night i had already attempted to shift through my lucid dream. i fell asleep on accident and woke up at least once, and then fell back asleep.

i fell into a dream where something personal had happened where it caused me to be really sad. to set the setting, it was extremely late at night and i had been coming home. i needed to shower especially to get my mind off things. i checked my phone that was on the bathroom counter before my shower and it switched from 1:30 something am to 3:33 am.

This is when i became lucid. tmi my armpits were extremely unkept. (i feel like this was my dream showing me an insecurity of mine bc i had just waxed and was afraid of the hair growing back weird omg. but after i had stopped feeling insecure and told myself that it's just a dream and it's not like that irl, it went back to normal).

after that moment was passed, i was so exhausted and as i was showering i decided to sit down for a second on the ground of the tub. i was so tired and sad that in my mind i was thinking about how i wanted to just shift so badly. didn't matter what reality it was, i just needed it at that moment.

i laid my head back on the wall of the tub, then my eyes started to drift closed. i started to experience shifting symptoms from inside the lucid dream. there was flashing lights i saw through my eyelids, i felt a sense of floating, numbness accompanied by tingles down my body, and the room felt like it was spinning.

i naturally had woken up. (i'd say i just opened my eyes but it felt like i had woken up like any other time i've ever woken up in my original reality). i noticed i shifted! i didn't even question it, because i didn't have to. just as we are right now, wherever you are reading this, that's how real and natural everything was. you know for a fact you aren't dreaming right now, this is reality. that's the closest way of how i could explain how i knew i shifted.

my surroundings hadn't changed though. it was still the same bathroom setting like i had been in like that dream which i found to be an exact replica of my original reality (or) bathroom. the lights were off but candles had been placed around the bathroom to create this peaceful ambience. it was really nice. i felt the hot water running down my skin as it hit the top of my head, as well as the steam. i could also feel the tiles of the wall and the tub beneath my bare feet.

i also didn't feel the immense sadness and heaviness i was experiencing in my dream anymore. you know when you woke up from being scared or sad in the dream, and you feel a sense of relief because it wasn't real? that's the feeling i had been feeling but also happiness and curiosity from me shifting.

as i was just standing in the water and taking it all in, that's when the ounce of disappointment hit me that i shifted to some place but my actual scripted drs. in which i understand you can shift to unscripted places, but you guys get what i'm saying. i guess it's my fault for not focusing on any of my drs and instead hoping for any reality possible. (please don't take the disappointment i had felt to any offense! i'm extremely happy i shifted, just wish it was to my waiting room dr, etc). but hey, i shifted and that is what matters!

then i decided to shift back! i had no reason of staying there any longer and a part of me didn't want to get out of the shower and open that bathroom door. since it was a random reality, i didn't want to mess around and find out.

i was ready to go back to my or! and even though i had been thinking about my or, i didn't just shift back like i always thought i would or was always afraid of happening when i had shifted to say my hogwarts dr. it was just like every other thought i've had about my drs here! just because you or i think about our drs during the day here, doesn't mean we will just be pulled out of this reality and shifted over there. i hope i'm making sense, but i'm sure you guys understand what i'm saying.

anyway, i set the intention to shift back to my or and said my safeword as i closed my eyes. it's hard to explain but i could feel my consciousness shifting back to my or? then i had woken up back in my or! i checked the time and it was around 4 am on june 25, 2024. i believe i had been in my dr for a total of at least 8-10 minutes. i couldn't believe i had just shifted realities, but i was also dead tired. so i went back to sleep! but i have to say throughout that day, i was exhausted and still processing my shifting experience. so exhausted, i didn't really have the motivation to do much of anything.

first of all, thanks to those of you keeping up with my shifting journey and never failing to continue motivating me. it means a lot to be apart of this community of caring and helpful people <3 next stop is my waiting room dr! also a quick question to the experienced shifters out there, does dealing with the exhaustion after shifting get easier? thanks! as always, happy shifting!

xoxo, c!

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 1: I Need You Now But I Don't Know You Yet

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts, Little bit sad, Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing, Basically the reader just wants to be loved, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.3K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: IDK You Yet (Title of chapter based on song) Y'all should listen to this song because it fits so well!

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: Guys you have no idea how excited I am about this story! It's already shaking up to have a TON of my usual angst, but I'm not surprised.😅 I'm also a little disappointed. I read a soulmate AU fic forever ago for Joel Miller where the birthday was printed on the reader's arm and I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called or find it. If y'all know what it is, please let me know. I'd love to read it again and give the writer a little bit of credit for inspiration. ❤️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

January 24, 1919

The date on your right wrist haunted you, the bold black numbers mocking from the moment you learned what they meant. It had to be a celestial mistake, a misprint, something wrong in the stars that shone so brightly over others, but dulled above your head.

Sometimes you thought you were cursed, that some mystical being before your birth marked you, scarred you, and made you carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders.

That whoever it was made you different on purpose and you hoped one day you understood what that purpose was.

You'd never met someone born with the same dilemma, to be saddled with a soulmate that was born over 100 years ago, and yet here you were.

You'd heard it all growing up, the hushed whispered "freak" from your schoolmates, the odd looks from your neighbors, the pitying frowns of your parents who had known each other since pre-k, and the hug from your older brother as he whispered the familiar phrase “it‘ll be okay" to soothe you.

But you always wondered…

When would it be okay?

You watched all your friends find their happy endings with their soulmates, the birth years printed on their wrists at least within the same few decades, but not you.

You were alone, different, cursed.

The date printed on your wrist made you different, because no one else had a soulmate that was born so far in the past.

Your soulmate's birthday brushed on your skin only brought a wave of disappointment every time you saw it, because what the hell did it mean? 1919? That meant that your soulmate would be over 100 years old when you met him, whoever it was.

If you even met him.

No one lives that long. My soulmate should be long dead. He can't still be alive. Can he?

Each year that passed was like another nail in the coffin, but you celebrated the birthday of your supposed soulmate with a cupcake and a beer, locked away in your apartment to shut out the jeers of those who knew your particular dilemma. And each year when you blew out the candle you wished that it would be the year you met him, but now you weren't sure it would ever happen.

Because it was impossible.

You didn't understand why you were different, why you were chosen to have a soulmate that was long dead. Maybe it was true, maybe you were born late, born under the wrong sign, or maybe you really were cursed.

You'd heard the stories of people who never found their soulmates, urban legends really, but it didn't make you feel any better. The stories of people who wasted away to nothing, driven to the point of insanity because they never found the other half of their soul, alone for as long as they could stand it before they finally crumbled to dust.

You refused to be like them, turning to books for solace and hoping to escape. Slipping into the pages and into other worlds where people found their other half to leave the loneliness that haunted you behind.

And in that solace your found your true love, literature. It wove around you and brought you peace in a world where you felt lost and different.

When you moved away from the small town you grew up in, you got a job as a Literature professor, reading the great works of others, while trying to forget about the date on your wrist and the soulmate you longed for each day.

It was incredibly lonely to think that you'd live your whole life with only one half of your soul.

Every time you opened a book from the era your soulmate was supposed to be born in you wondered if he had read it, wondered what it was like to live in that time, and imagined what it would have been like to be there with him.

Each day you covered up the date on your wrist with a splash of foundation and playfully laughed it off whenever someone asked you if you'd found your soulmate yet. All the while spending year after year fading just a little bit more as you lost the last pieces of hope that you'd ever meet him.

One Year Ago

You were running late. Frankly you were always running late, but in the city that never sleeps it was to be expected.

It was supposed to be a big day. You had about a hundred papers to grade, a test to proctor, and three lectures to give, but you couldn't complain about your job, you loved it. Loved the groans of your students whenever you announced a test or an essay, loved the soft evenings where you read papers with a cup of tea and learned what in the assigned text was special to your students, and loved to teach from the books that had become home to you, the books that tried to heal your wounded heart.

But today something was different.

Something nagged at the back of your mind, as if you had forgotten that something else was supposed to happen today.

Haircut? No that's not it.

You think as you walk to the large wooden desk in your living room/bedroom. It was technically a dining room table, breakfast table, and your desk, but you'd loved it since the moment you found it tucked into a corner of an antique store in Brooklyn.

Your small studio apartment was quaint, the bedroom and living room divided by a large mid-century wooden screen that you had bought for twenty bucks at a thrift store the weekend you moved into your apartment five years ago. The living room only housed a plump cream colored couch that faced out the window towards the living room window that gave you a spectacular view of the alley between your apartment building and the next. Sometimes you got to watch the couple in the apartment across from you having a terrific fight and then got a front row seat to the loud make-up sex they had almost immediately after.

Large stacks of books dominated every wall stretching up as high up to the ceiling as they could reach, some were pressed against the exposed brick walls, others serving as the base for the coffee table you’d made with a vintage window, and of course there was one stack that towered high above your bed on top of your bedside table.  You didn't own a tv, not when you spent most of your time reading.

Being a English professor meant that you could never have too many books not when they were like old friends that pulled you in whenever you opened their yellowing pages.

Meeting with the head of the English department? You bite the inside of your cheek as you shove your notebook, planner, pencil case, and laptop into your leather messenger bag. No, that's on Thursday.

You'd been working on a research paper that you hoped to publish about the Modern Period of Literature in America, but the head of the English Department wanted to see how much you'd done. In all honesty the only reason why you'd started studying the Modern Period of literature was because it was supposedly the time period in which your soulmate grew up and you thought that it would give you some insight into what his life was like. 

And despite your being an expert on that time period, the head of the English Department did not share your enthusiasm for it. The only thing the head of the English Department had any enthusiasm for was his self-published book of erotic poetry and staring at your legs for too long while making subtle attempts for you to sleep with him even though he was married.

You fight the wave of revulsion with the memory of the last time you had a meeting with him and give yourself a once over in the mirror hanging on the bathroom door that faces in to your living room. You looked the way that you always did, maybe a little more frantic than usual, but that was expected given the fact that you were running late.

Today you had decided to wear your favorite dark green chunky sweater that you'd knitted yourself, a dark gray argyle midi-skirt, chestnut brown ankle high-heeled leather boots, and your traditional pair of circular black-rimmed glasses.

It's going to be a good day. You smile at your reflection. Yeah, if I could remember whatever the hell it is I've forgotten.

You roll your eyes and grab a bagel from the bag on the counter.

No time to toast it.

You think mournfully before shoving it between your teeth as you run out the door, slamming it behind you so hard that it rattles the watercolor botanical framed prints on the inside wall of the apartment.

"Late again?" Your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson, asks opening the cheerful yellow door of her apartment.

She was wearing her traditional pink cat eye glasses and had her wavy gray hair pushed back by a floral headband. When you'd moved in five years ago, she had brought over some cinnamon swirl muffins and a pot of blueberry tea. She'd just lost her own soulmate and husband of sixty-five years and was looking for a friend about as much as you were.

And although she had about eighty cats, all of which who were named after literary figures (your own cat was named Heathcliff), and often smelled like mothballs, you enjoyed spending time with her. She knew about your dilemma and didn't judge you for it. She didn't throw you a pitying look or make outrageous comments about why you'd been chosen to never meet your soulmate. If anything she acted like the way you thought your mother always should but never did. Not with judgement as your mother did, but with concern and love.

"Always." You shout back, muffled around the sesame seed bagel, stamping your foot to get your boot in the right position.

"Tea later?"

"Mhmm."

"Get some earl gray macaroons!"

You make it down the stairs successfully without falling, before throwing yourself against the door that leads into the black and white tiled lobby. Your high heeled boots clack loudly against the floor and you step out onto the crowded sidewalks of the early morning.

Fall was just beginning in the city, your favorite season. The leaves in Central Park were turning reddish brown and yellow and there was a wonderful chill that swept through the crowded streets.

You wove through the people, walking in the direction of NYU and looking down at the antique wristwatch perched on your left wrist to confirm what you already knew- that you were going to be late for your 8:00 am lecture on 20th Century American Romantics.

Shit.

The city is lively for a Monday morning. The chatter of people on phones, the buzz of traffic, the high pitched screech of horns, and the smells of the city wafted over you. It was so different from the small town you grew up in, but you loved being here. Here no one knew you, no one judged you, no one muttered something under their breath about you, and no one grabbed their children and crossed the street as if you were contagious.

You felt free.

You round the corner still looking down at your watch, weaving in and out of the foot traffic the best you can, when someone bumps into your shoulder. Whoever hit you was solid, broad, and much taller than you. The bagel drops from your mouth as you jostle from the bump, and you let out a low groan.

There goes my breakfast.

You look up prepared to curse out the offender when you stop. Whoever it was hadn't stopped moving, but you catch a flash of his bright green eyes as he passes, meeting yours for only a moment.

But that moment seems to last a lifetime.

He was tall with wild dark brown hair so long it touched his shoulders and a scraggly beard that fell over his chest almost to his collarbones. He looked dirty,  almost worn, and was wearing a faded maroon track suit that had some writing on the sleeve in another language that you couldn't place. But his eyes were a brilliant green, so beautiful that they took your breath away.

As soon as his eyes meet yours, your skin hums, body lightening, warmth unfurling like the petals of a flower in the center of your chest curling outward reaching for the sun above. All sounds of the city vanish, leaving you only with the manic thud of your heart. Everything in your body turns towards the man, cells vibrating, reaching out, wanting more, begging you to grab him and hold him close. Electricity pulses and dances along your skin making your hair stand on end and goosebumps erupt along your flesh.

The birthday inscribed by the stars on your wrist sears against your skin like a brand beneath the foundation you smeared over it this morning. You look at him as if seeing for the first time, as if the past years of your life have been colorless, as if you'd been living in a cave for centuries and he's your first glimpse of sunlight, and as if you'd never seen the stars and he's the midnight sky.

You'd never felt any of this before.

The man's eyes widen as he looks at you, people passing between the two of you in a faceless blur, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He has to…

But the man shakes his head and turns his back on you continuing on his path down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he goes.

"Wait-" You start to say, but your phone rings loudly in your pocket breaking the spell, and as you look down to retrieve it, you lose the man in the crowd.

What the hell just happened?

The rest of your day is chaotic, almost a blur, your body still humming from seeing that man on the street, wrist aching where the birthdate on your wrist burned against your flesh so hot that it seared through the foundation you brushed meticulously over the skin this morning to cover it up. It was no longer black, but flashed a brilliant gold with every shift of your wrist in the light as you moved your arm when teaching, peeking out beneath the sleeve of your sweater. Every flash distracted you from your lecture. Even your TA, Tate, who sat in the front row of your class began to notice how often you lost your train of thought.

You barely got through your 8:00 am lecture, stumbled through you 9:00 and 10:15, and canceled your 2:00 class much to the chagrin of your students who were expecting a test.

When Tate finally asked you if you're feeling alright, you wave a hand and tell him to take the rest of the day off, while you barricaded yourself in your office and stared at your wrist for hours, running your hands over the golden date confused. The birthdays always shone gold after two people found one another, and when your soulmate died, it went back to black, as if a reminder that the world had faded.

It was weird to see it shine so brightly when you'd lived your whole life staring at the mark and wishing for it to go away.

But he's not here, he's gone. I don't know where he went or how to find him…

Your friends back home described finding their soulmates before, tried to explain to you what it was like when they locked eyes with them for the first time, but everyone was different. No one could describe exactly how they felt when it happened.

Deep down you thought that it should feel like what happened when you locked eyes with the man on the street, like nothing else existed, just him and you but-

He acted like it was nothing like I was just another person and not the other half of his soul.

You swallow the lump in your throat, emotion from a lifetime of disappointment building, and finally the tears begin to crest and fall over your cheeks. You'd never heard of a one sided soulmate before, of only one person feeling drawn to the other one.

Then again, I've never heard of someone printed with the date of a soulmate who was born so far in the past.

Seeing him for the first time was like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp spike, followed by the force of gravity jolting you into reality.

But why him?

You think again about how weathered he looked, like he'd been living under a rock for the past hundred years. And then you see the flash of his brilliant green eyes again in your mind, just for a fleeting moment, but it's enough to make the warmth trail along your skin, like the soft caress of a lover.

Was he really born in 1919? Or was this just another joke? Another way for the universe to laugh at me?

Frustrated tears blur your eyes as you stroke the birthdate on your wrist, heart breaking all over again, because it seemed that even if you had found the man the universe designated for you, he didn't care.

One Year Later: Present Day

You sigh loudly and hold up another dress in front of your body looking at yourself in the mirror. You had no idea what you were going to wear to Annie and your brother Hughie's housewarming party and you only had about another thirty minutes before you had to leave.

Your brother had been living in New York longer than you had, but he still made time for you. The two of you got lunch every week and it was your fault that he met Annie.

Meeting her yourself had been a complete fluke. You'd been sitting at your favorite bench in Central Park by the pond, reading your favorite book, allowing the gentle prose of the author to whisk you away for a few minutes, when someone sat down beside you and promptly began to cry.

And when you asked her what was wrong she'd told you everything about her problems at work and although you'd never been the best at comforting other people, you'd taken her to the closest coffee shop and the two of you had bonded over Chai Tea lattes.

You'd invited her over to watch a movie with your brother one Saturday night and then had a front row seat when the two of them realized that they were meant to be together. You'd tried to be happy for them, but the whole time Annie gushed about Hughie and Hughie stared at her like she was the last glimpse of the sun before it dropped below the horizon all you could think about was that it would never happen to you.

And now one year later, the two of them were finally moving in together in a fancy apartment uptown and you didn't want to imagine what the rent was. Your own studio was enough for you and you were lucky enough to have one that was rent controlled.

But you figured due to Annie being one of the Seven, she was probably making more than your measly teaching salary could ever amount to.

Learning that she was Starlight had been surprising, you weren't a supe, not even close and you didn't want to be. You had your hands full with teaching college kids, and didn't want to think about what it would be like to have superpowers or really what you would do with them. You certainly didn't need them to be a teacher and you didn't want to have them.

Plus, you always worried that you'd get some weird power like shooting webs out of your butt or making it rain blood. You didn't want to take that chance and shooting up Compound V felt like Russian Roulette.

You also worried about your brother working so closely with supes. The two of you hadn’t met any growing up and you worried that he was putting himself in danger every day when he went out to deal with them. But you were happy that Annie went with him, because you knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to him, she loved him too much.

As you hold up a black dress in the mirror you see a flash of the golden birthdate on your arm, and you're unable to fight the emotion that builds in your chest when you do.

It had been a year since it happened, since you locked eyes with a complete stranger on the street and felt your soul intertwine with his and he turned his back on you.

You'd understood that.

Understood that for some reason he decided to turn away like you meant nothing to him, like you weren't the other piece of his soul, and like a part of him didn't call out to you, a lighthouse over a stormy sea to a sinking ship.

It had broken you more than the first time you realized what the date on your arm meant. It always seemed ridiculous that something that brought happiness to millions of others made you feel broken, like there was something wrong with you.

And in that moment on the street something felt right for a few seconds, you felt whole for the first time in your life, only to have everything dashed against the rocks all over again.

But you hadn't forgotten him, couldn't forget him. His green eyes haunted you and each night you dreamed of him.

You saw pieces of his life, his memories, felt his pain, his anger, his frustration, and deep down his fear whenever you fell asleep. You'd never heard of that before, of a soulmate dreaming the memories of another.

You'd asked your neighbor, Mrs. Charleson if she had dreams of her soulmate's memories, she'd said no, but then she said that she'd heard about it, thought that it was only a myth, but it meant that the souls were fated to spend more than one lifetime together.

As if you knew what that meant.

It had broken your heart even more when she said that, because if that were true why did he turn away?

How could he turn away? Why did he leave me standing in the street and acted like I wasn't his other half?

It made you think that maybe he wasn't impressed with you and that he was disappointed that you of all people were his soulmate.

You'd had a mental breakdown at Mrs. Charleson's apartment when you went home early the day you met your soulmate or whatever the hell he was.

She'd made blueberry tea and rubbed you back. And when the tea hadn't worked she had cracked a bottle of red wine and ordered greasy takeout food that the two of you ate on her floral couch while her cats circled like sharks looking for a piece of your chicken and broccoli.

You would have called Annie, but she and Hughie were out of town on a long weekend getaway.

And when you went back to your apartment and crashed into your bed, you'd dreamt of him for the first time.

The memories you'd seen when you closed your eyes that night were not happy at all. You'd seen the early years of his life being berated by his father, years of him drinking and fucking his sorrows away, and then the worst, him being tortured in what looked like a lab. He was a supe, that much you could gather from the memories. But they were filled with pain, suffering, frustration- you'd never met someone who'd been through so much before. Endured so much torture.

You still didn't know his name, didn't see enough of his life to figure out who he was, only that he was different than you in almost every single way. The memories were terrible, filled with blood, death, and pain. It scared you to see your soulmate that way, see him so angry and see him hurt and kill people. You couldn't imagine the kind of man he was, the kind of man who could burn someone beyond recognition and feel absolutely nothing.

It was confusing. You didn't understand how someone who was supposed to be the other half of your soul, was the complete opposite of you. Someone that was filled with so much rage and pain was the man the stars declared was for you.

It doesn't matter anyway. He saw you and didn't want you.

You ignore the lump of emotion in the back of your throat and hold up a navy blue dress, but you hang it back in your closet with a sigh. Nothing seemed to be appropriate for you to wear to the party and you hadn’t been shopping for a new outfit in ages. Not to mention you knew that no matter what you wore Annie would look flawless.

You loved your brother's soulmate, but sometimes you were intimidated by how pretty she was and how together she was. It made you a little self-conscious about the long skirts, sweaters, and blazers you wore when you were at work and you were not together at all.

You seemed to always be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, frantically running from place to place and trying not to lose the last bit of sanity you had left. While Annie was confident, poised, and glided into each room.

Finally, you reach for a pair of your favorite blue jeans and the same green chunky knit sweater you were wearing the day that you saw him for the first time. The sleeves were long enough to cover the mark on the wrist. You hadn't told your brother or Annie about that day and you didn't want them to see the golden date on your wrist and ask you where your soulmate was.

Guess I'm going a little more casual today.

On your way out you give your cat, Heathcliff, an affectionate scratch behind the ears and grab your purse. You were running a little early this time, early enough to pick up a Snake Plant around the corner at your favorite plant shop, 'Please Don't Die,' as a housewarming gift and then stopped at the liquor store next door to grab a bottle of Annie's favorite wine.

You figured that you'd end up staying late and drinking wine with her long after the party was over.

Hughie opens the door of the apartment when you knock. "Thank God you're here! Annie is freaking out and driving me up the wall-"

"No I'm not! I'm just expressing all the things that have to be done within the next five minutes or I really am going to go crazy!" You hear his soulmate shout back when Hughie lets you in.

The apartment is fancier than yours, all white walls and glass windows that display a view you would kill for. Your brother is wearing a nice light blue button down shirt and navy tie, and his hair is it's usual fluffed and curly self. He looks happy and it warms a piece of your heart because you knew how much that he deserved it. And that's all you wanted for your older brother.

Annie appears, wearing a white dress that wraps over one shoulder and falls to her ankles, effortlessly elegant as usual. It made you feel self-conscious that you'd worn jeans, when Annie was wearing something that made her look like a Greek goddess.

"I am so underdressed." You mutter to yourself

"No! You look great babe. I love those jeans on you." She smiles pulling you in for a hug.

"Well-"

"But please let me do something with your hair." Annie touches the messy bun at the back of your head making a face.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, I'm just going to spruce it up a little bit for you."

"But-"

Annie pulls the bottle of wine and the plant from your arms and shoves them at Hughie. "We'll be right back." And with that she drags you to their shared bedroom.

20 minutes later your hair has been perfectly curled and styled by Annie's skillful hands. She'd even adjusted your make up so that now you're wearing a bold red lipstick and a dark eyeshadow that matches your ensemble. And even you have to admit that you look better than you did moments ago. You usually didn't wear that much makeup, sometimes it made you feel like you weren't you, but what Annie had applied seemed stylish.

"Thanks Annie."

"Of course." She smiles brightly and leads you back out into the large kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and real marble countertops. "How have you been? Did you finish that paper you were writing?"

By now several people have already begun to gather at different parts of the apartment, talking quietly with one another, while sipping drinks and eating finger food. The sound of their chatter is masked by the Billy Joel song playing from the speaker in the corner.

"Yeah. I submitted it, now I'm just waiting for the department head to read it." You frown at the thought.

"You don't think he'll like it?" She moves to the freezer to grab a bag of ice.

"Dale doesn't like the modern period of literature as much as I do so I'm expecting him to have a lot of critiques and reasons why he doesn't like it." You take the bag from her and set it on the counter.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. He's never ecstatic about my research work." The thought makes you frown. "Even though he knows it's my specialty and the reason why he hired me."

"Isn’t he the creepy married guy that keeps trying to take you to dinner and wrote all those sensual poems about women who sound nothing like his wife?"

"Yep."

"Ew." Annie's face scrunches up in disgust.

"My thoughts exactly." You sigh looking around the kitchen for an ice bucket. "Do y'all have an ice bucket somewhere or-"

"It should be in that cabinet." She points behind you just as you hear someone knock loudly on the front door.

"Perfect."

The ice bucket is acrylic, see-through, and light pink, but you find it easily. The ice clanks against the sides as you pour, not bothering to watch Hughie open the door for whoever it was that hit the front door of the apartment with so much force you thought it would cave in.

Annie leans against the counter pouring herself a glass of wine and groans to herself when she sees who Hughie was greeting.

"What's wrong?" You ask her, your tongue between your teeth as you try not to spill any of the ice over the perfect countertops.

"I didn't think he would come." She grumbles.

"Who?"

"Ben." Annie all but sighs the name.

"And why didn't you want him to come?" You ask, pouring more ice into the bucket.

"He's just kind of rough-"

"Rough?"

"He works with Hughie. He's a supe. Thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread or whatever.” She sighs again and takes a sip of her white wine to calm down. "Actually he used to be Soldier Boy."

"Soldier Boy? You mean the supe from the 80's that died?"

Hughie didn't tell me he had a dead man working with him.

"It's a long story." Annie waves her hand as if to dissipate the thought, but it doesn’t make you any less curious. "Now he works at the bureau with Hughie trying to keep supes in check. Usually he and Butcher bump heads."

"Oh."

Hughie didn't talk much about what he did with Butcher, or really who he met, but after Homelander disappeared and Stormfront took over as leader as the Seven more supes began to come out of the woodwork, supes that had been afraid before, but now had no one to keep them in check. And although The Seven were feared in the city, no one was feared as much as Homelander.

"I'm sure that he won't try anything Annie. And if he does I'll keep him in check." You smile at your friend.

It's her housewarming party and supe or no if he's a prick I'm going to kick his ass out. Annie doesn't deserve to feel stressed today of all days.

"Thanks babe."

"What are friends for?"

She squeezes your arm and walks away to talk with MM who stands with a little girl who must be his daughter. You'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but he was always eager to talk about her achievements in school. He was so proud of her that it made your heart warm. Her mother wasn't his soulmate, but there hadn't been any hard feelings between MM and his daughter's mother.

That wasn't unusual. You'd known several people who decided to date other people before meeting their soulmate as a way of passing the time. You'd always thought it was ridiculous to commit yourself to someone else and fall in love with them, only to have your heart broken when they met who they were meant to be with.

It was why you hadn't tried to date anyone, because you might have never met your soulmate, but the other person you'd be in a relationship with would. And you didn’t want to give your heart to someone only to have them leave you when they met their other half. Which meant that you were probably going to die alone, especially because your soulmate doesn't want you. It hadn't helped that you'd seen a few memories from your own soulmate with other women over the years, women that didn't look anything like you, women that seemed more confident, more beautiful, and more stylish than you.

Maybe that's why he didn't want me.

Your feel the familiar twinge in your chest when you thought that and fought the tears that burned when you thought of how happy Annie and Hughie were. You didn't want to cry at their party.

The familiar question rises in your head again:

When will it be okay?

Probably never.

You turn toward the freezer holding the now half-full bag of ice intent on putting it back when someone bumps into you. The bag slips from your hands and ice goes skittering across the perfect hardwood floors in every direction, but just when you start to drop to pick it up, you feel a large hand grip your shoulder.

A gasp escapes from your mouth as it makes contact.

As soon as the palm touches you, you feel nothing else, not the shift of the sweater against your skin, not the slight chill from the air conditioner, not the brush of your hair against your cheeks, all you feel is the warmth radiating through your clothes and soaking into your skin from the person's hand.

The hand moves to cup your chin gently, the shock of the person's skin touching yours makes the feeling increase ten-fold as the hand tilts your face up to meet the eyes of the person who bumped into you.

You know it's him before your eyes meet his, know that it's the man from the street who you saw for only a few seconds a year ago, but this time when his beautiful green eyes meet yours everything you felt that day comes roaring back.

He's taller than you remember, shoulders proud and broad stretching a dark gray button down shirt over his chest that have the sleeves rolled up revealing tanned arms. His hair is shorter, still dark brown, but now only long enough to cover the tops of his ears and his beard is shaved so that only a thick dusting covers his cheeks, but it's still him. And he's more handsome than any version you could come up with in your mind.

All sound in the room vanishes, the drone of chatter fades, the clinking of glasses disappears, the only sound that remains is your own heart thudding in your chest and you swear you can hear his beating at the same frequency, both of your hearts calling out to one another.

Your entire body feels like it's vibrating, as if every cell is moving so fast that they're heating you from the inside, leaving behind a molten puddle of what you used to be. A golden cord weaves around the two of you securing your heart to his in your mind, making you gasp as it hooks to his heart binding his soul to yours. Time stops as he gazes at you, something brightening in his green eyes as they absorb your own gaze.

The man doesn't move. It almost looks like he's stopped breathing, and you realize that you haven't taken a breath since he touched your shoulder. His eyes drop down to your right wrist where your hand rests over his heart, where he knows his birthday will be.

You don't remember reaching out to touch him, but now that you realize it, you can feel his heart beating beneath the palm of your hand like a fluttering bird, gentle and judging by the memories you had witnessed from him, nothing about this man was gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." The man rumbles, the words vibrating against your fingertips where they rest against his muscular chest. He smiles down at you and somewhere deep down you feel something break open that you thought was locked away long ago.

And as you stand there looking up at the man you thought you'd never see again, the autumn sun warm against your back, you feel a flicker of something that could grow into a blaze spark to life in your chest.

A/N: I hope y'all loved the first chapter as much as I loved writing it! I've never written a soulmate AU, so I am a little nervous about it, but I think that it's going to be a lot of fun! And yes, I did give Ben the same birthday as Dean Winchester (not the same year). In my head Ben is Dean from a different universe, and it just made sense to me. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 😊 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@pamwritessometimes @roger-that-cap @my-obsession-spn @deangirl96 @kr804573

@roseblue373 @52ndstreeet @mrsjenniferwinchester @impala67stellawinchester

[fayes-fics]

Textual Encounter

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Text fic. Wrong number meet-cute over text.

Warnings: none... this is fluff and humour.

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Fic request fill for Anon (HERE). I kept it fun and fluffy, but yeah, I can see a sequel where they sext. Thanks to @colettebronte for the read-through. Enjoy! <3

Y/N: Hey Liz, it’s y/n y/l/n. Kindle Spa gave me your mobile. Said you had moved to another salon. I don’t trust anyone else to wax me tbh. Big date this week, kwim 😉 Can I get an appt? I’ll come to you. Doesn’t matter where. 

BB: Errr, I think you have the wrong number…

Y/N: Not Liz?

BB: Nope, Ben here. 

Y/N: Not a waxer, I presume?

BB: I may have waxed lyrical in my time, may even have lit a few candles. Have not waxed anyone no - my own body or anyone else’s. Yet. But I’m game to try anything once...

Y/N: Lol.

BB: Big date, eh?

Y/N: ….Yeah. Not that it's any of your business, stranger Ben.

BB: Fair. BB: Does it hurt?

Y/N: ??

BB: Getting waxed.

Y/N: Oh. Yeah. Like a motherfucker. But you sorta get used to it, tbh. And it’s so much less itchy than shaving regrowth, especially in sensitive areas… Wait, why am I having this convo with a complete stranger?!

BB: We don’t have to be strangers. BB: I’m Ben, 33, London. BB: I have no strong opinions on hair removal methods.

Y/N: lol. K. I’m y/n, 28, also London. Y/N: I, as you can see, do have some opinions.

BB: Hi y/n 👋 BB: I hope you can find Liz. Or someone else to assist with your hair needs.

Y/N: I would like it stated, for the record, I’m not hairy like a troll. I just like to keep things neat.

BB: The lady doth protest too much…

Y/N: You are cheeky for a stranger.

BB: Hey, I thought we agreed. Not strangers. Me Ben. You hairy troll.

Y/N: BLOCK.

BB: Just typing it doesn't work, you know.

Y/N: You should work at the Apple Genius Bar.

BB: Hmm, possibly. I do look good in blue. Or so I've been told.

Y/N: Always glad to provide career counselling.

BB: 🫡

4 days later.

BB: How’d your date go?

Y/N: That's odd. I don’t see a Genius Bar appt in my calendar…?

BB: iCal is a lying bastard. BB: I also assume you now can move faster through water.

Y/N: ??

BB: Waxed smooth like a dolphin…?

Y/N: 😆 Y/N: Entirely none of your business, but yes, actually. Well mostly. I leave some. Why am I telling you this?! Y/N: The guy was such a dud tho, I didn't get to show it off 🙁

BB: Please don't stop on my account. This is just delightful.  BB: I apologise on behalf of all men.

Y/N: For what?

BB: Having 4 sisters, I find the safest answer here is usually… everything, of course.  BB: But specifically, your rubbish date.

Y/N: Apology conditionally accepted. Y/N: 4 sisters?! 

BB: Only conditional? What do I gots to do to make it unconditional? BB: Yeah, I know… I’ve got 3 brothers too. My parents were really into each other. 

Y/N: IDK, serve a mean martini? Y/N: Understatement.

BB: That could be arranged. I took an online mixology course during lockdown.  BB: My sister El declared I'm better than Stanley Tucci. Admittedly, that was after 4 espresso martinis… but I'm taking it. She's opinionated but the best one. They are a weird bunch tho 🤔

Y/N: WOAH WOAH WOAH. That's a bold claim.

BB: Well, there’s only one way to dispute it: try one for yourself…

Y/N: Smooth, Genius Bar, smooth.

BB: I do my best 🤷

1 day later.

Y/N: I can't get my AirPods to work.

BB: You do realise I didn’t actually follow your career advice?

Y/N: Urgh. Inconvenient. What use are you then?

BB: As I said. Cocktails. I’ll try my hand at waxing if you want.

Y/N: Best stick to the day job. Which is…?

BB: Graphic design.

Y/N: Oh, that’s quite cool. 

BB: It pays the bills. You?

Y/N: MI-5

BB: Wow, you're a shit spy.

Y/N: It could be an excellent double bluff…

BB:

Y/N: Oh, we’ve graduated to memes now, have we, Genius Bar?

BB: It was called for.

Y/N: I’ll take it. Purely cos it's a Hemsworth.

BB: I would too, tbh.

Y/N: Bi?

BB: For a Hemsworth? Always.

Y/N: Anyone else?

BB: I’ll keep you posted.

Y/N: I'm on the edge of my seat.

3 days later.

BB: Oscar Issac.

Y/N: Good non sequitur evening to you, too, Genius Bar Ben.

BB: For the bi thing.

Y/N: Ahh. Got it. I can respect that.

BB: This is me, btw: www.instagram.com/benbridgerdesign.  BB: Figured you can decide for yourself if I'm a creeper.

Y/N: Appreciated.

3 minutes later.

Y/N: You paint?

BB: I dabble

Y/N: Modesty will only make me like you more.

BB: You like me?! 🥹

Y/N: You didn't mention you were handsome.

BB: There is no way to respond to that without me sounding like a twat.

BB: But thank you 😊

Y/N: This is me: www.instagram.com/ynhandle 

7 minutes later.

BB: Oh, Amalfi is so beautiful, isn't it?

Y/N: Wow. That's a deep cut. How far did you scroll back??

BB: 👀

Y/N: Yeah, it's beautiful. Shame it's tainted for me now. Was there with an ex.

BB: I saw. Very handsome.

Y/N: Are you sure you're not just into men full-stop?

BB: 🤷 BB: You’re very pretty, too.

Y/N: I’d believe it if you didn't mention my “very handsome” ex first…

BB: I call it like I see it. BB: I have had 4 whiskeys, tho, so make of that what you will.

Y/N: On a school night?!

BB: It’s my brother Ant's birthday. This is like non-optional drunk, I’ll have you know.

Y/N: Happy birthday to him. 

BB: He says thanks. He’s also told me to get off my fucking phone. Which is rich. He is texting his wife nonstop.

Y/N: Hah! Safe travels through Whiskeytown, BenBridger 🫡

BB: I kinda miss Genius Bar…. 😞

Y/N: I can't win…

2 days later.

BB: Settle an argument for me.

Y/N: 🍿

BB: Col, younger brother, never stops eating... He claims Katz Deli is overrated. I argue it's touristy but still good. You’ve been. Where do you sit on this matter?

Y/N: You really did go thru my Insta, didn't you?? Y/N: Thanks for the follow, BTW.

BB: It's a compliment, I assure you. BB: Welcome. And same.

Y/N: Not complaining. And yeah, I agree with you, actually.

BB: Hah! Excellent!!

Y/N: Wait… your older brother is Ant, and your younger brother is Col? You’re Ben. So, like ABC?

BB:  … I already warned you my family was weird.

Y/N: You did. You did.

BB: Now, please excuse me while I go gloat.

Y/N: 👍

5 mins later.

BB: Hi. This is Col. You must be the famous y/n. Ben’s in the bogs, and the mug left his phone on the table unlocked, so this is on him.  BB: He like really likes you. Like a lot. Will you go on a date with him pls? 

Y/N: Err, ok, hi Col. Y/N: Umm, I think Ben should be the one to ask me that. Don’t you?

BB: He’s too scared you’ll say no.

Y/N: I won't…

BB: EXCELLENT.

2 minutes later.

BB: I am so SO sorry about that 😬 He’s such a shit. BB: But… do you mean it?

Y/N: Ask me properly…

BB: Would you, y/n, like to go on a date with me? Please?

Y/N: I would be delighted to Ben. 😀

BB: 🙏 BB: Are you free on Thursday? Could I take you to dinner?

Y/N: Sounds wonderful. 

BB: 7pm? Meet at Picadilly Circus? By Brasserie Zedel?

Y/N: I’ll be there 😀

BB: 😀

10 days later.

BB: I think you should know… Liz is an artiste 😮‍💨

Y/N: Stop texting me from my bed, you dork. 😘 Y/N: How do you take your coffee?

BB: I'm like 10 meters away. Why not just ask me?

Y/N: You started this, Genius Bar…

BB: Come back to bed, Mostly Hairless Troll.

Y/N: I asked for that, didn't I? 🤦

Benedict taglist, pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[starlessea2]

If you still want Astarion requests, I’d love to see something with a Tav who’s really nervous to let Astarion bite? 🥺

Positively Starved (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: In spite of your nerves, you invite Astarion back for a bite; admiring the trust you've put in him, he promises to be gentle (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N I wrote this in under an hour as I wanted to play around with some requests! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these off-the-cuff oneshots! (Also, slight mention of blood in this one).

Masterlist

"You can feed on me tonight... if you'd like."

The words sprung from your mouth. They lingered in the air, each syllable punctuating over and over—ringing out through your shared connection.

You felt a cringe.

Where in the seven hells did that come from? Was one near-death encounter not enough?

Before you could attempt to splutter out any sort of explanation, you were met with Astarion's laugh. "How very generous, my dear! I was starting to wonder when you'd invite me back for a bite."

Blood pooled to your cheeks; you could feel it—see it in the way his eyes turned them a similar, darker shade.

As you ruminated on his words, your heart hammered in your chest. The silence was palpable. But just as you were about to open your mouth to dismiss the idea completely, the man was roused into action.

"You know... I never expected you to be so eager," he finally said. Your embarassment swelled tenfold. "Tell you what, when the others have turned in for the night, I'll come to your bedroll."

Immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You glanced around—far less subtly than you would have hoped. To anyone in earshot, it would have sounded like Astarion was propositioning you.

Well, he was, you quickly realised. Just for blood over sex.

"Right—okay," you stammered back. You hated how weak your voice sounded, so you took a moment to make it stronger. "Come find me later then," you told him, before returning to sifting through your supplies.

You tried to calm your nerves, but as you turned to leave, you did not miss the way Astarion's fangs poked through his grin, nor how his eyes trailed your neck. Your legs almost buckled.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥ ◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥

As night fell, you found yourself, and your bedroll, tucked away in a small stone outhouse on the edge of camp. You'd discovered it earlier in the day, when looting storage boxes for odds and sods. It was cold, and damp—but at least it wasn't dark.

Amber glow lit up the space; you'd illuminated it with a few low-wicked candles as you waited for Astarion. In this warm light, you tried to make yourself comfortable on your bedroll.

"Setting the mood are we?"

Astarion's voice echoed through the outhouse. Although you tried not to acknowledge it, your heart immediately quickened in response—as did your mind race.

Your eyes followed him as he came inside, closing the old oak door behind him. "I must admit, I didn't expect this..." He waved a hand before him, inspecting the dripping candles, and your poor attempts at cleaning the place up.

"How come?" you asked.

His smile sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, aside from me getting a tad carried away the first time we did this... I could also feel your thoughts."

Even in the dim light, you could see his half-lidded expression, as though he was reliving the moment behind tired eyes.

He went on, "Excitement, yes, my dear. But also flighty as a bird."

Your brows furrowed. Part of you felt indignant, craved to prove him wrong by baring your neck without an ounce of apprehension. The other part wondered how he already knew you so well.

You tried to muster a reply, but it was Astarion who spoke first. "As much as I appreciate the offer, you don't have to do this, you know."

In that moment, everything seemed to still. You could only imagine the state of disbelief painted on your face. Throughout your time together, that must have been the most selflessness Astarion had ever strewn into a sentence.

But now was not the time to comment on it.

"I know," you said instead. "And I won't lie to you. I'm not sure exactly why I sought you out."

You sat up and reached for Astarion's hand. Something flashed over his face, but even so, he allowed you to guide him down to your bedroll.

"Perhaps you were right. Perhaps there is a spark of curiosity in me—excitement, even." His eyes widened, set alight by your confession. "Or maybe, and I know you won't like it..."

With a raised brow, he coaxed you, "Go on."

"When you told me about Cazador—" You paused for Astarion scowl, watching the lines materialise on his porcelain skin. "Well, I just thought how horrible it must have been to be constantly..." You sought out the word. "Hungry."

Astarion's lips parted ever so slightly.

Are you hungry? You shared the thought with him.

"Positively starved," came the reply.

Then he leaned in, casting shadows over your candle-lit skin. To any onlooker it might appear he was preparing for a kiss. But you weren't that naive.

"Not—" Your hand found his chest, the exposed skin peeking out of his shirt collar. "Not too much," you whispered.

Your eyes caught his in a silent plea. Astarion answered by taking your hand and pressing it into your bedroll. "No need to worry, my dear," he said, hot against your ear. "I promise to be gentle."

Your breath hitched. That wasn't the first time you'd heard those words spill from his pretty lips; you just hoped he'd be true to his word on this occasion.

You kept your eyes tightly shut as Astarion found your neck. As his fangs scraped your skin, you took a fistful of his hair between your fingers.

He bit down.

You tried not to cry out. The sensation was one you could hardly describe: a sharp sting followed by... euphoria?

No that wasn't right.

But all you could confidently say was that Asatrion's body lay hot over yours, and his lips were soft, but not quite as gentle as promised.

As he drank from you, you saw stars behind your eyes.

Your body thrummed as he suckled on the tender skin of your neck. The sounds he made were nothing short of sinful; they elicited a strained sort of moan from behind your own lips.

You felt Astarion's hand tighten over yours. He took more from you, worrying your skin between his teeth, coaxing more of your gasps to surface.

Pleasure mingled with pain coursed through your shared connection—a deep longing on either end. You cried out, and quickly, Astarion pulled away.

Feeling the loss of warmth, you opened your eyes. You were dazed, but even then, you noticed his cherry-red lips, tinted with your blood.

You blinked, trying to rid your vision of its blurred edges.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Astarion asked. He sat up immediately, inspecting your neck and overall complexion. "You're looking a little... flushed," he concluded.

A tired laugh escaped you. "My blood runs hot," you managed to say.

"Indeed it does," he agreed. Then he promptly stood up and dusted himself off.

A pang of hurt struck you.

It must have been strong enough to have travelled through your shared connection, since Astarion glanced back almost immediately.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, exasperated. "I'm just going to fetch some water. Try not to move until the dizziness passes."

Your mouth fell ajar. A wave of shyness overcame you. Had it been that obvious you wanted him to stay?

Apparently it had, so you tentatively rolled over, hiding your face from the man. "Thank you," you mumbled into your bedroll.

You heard the door creak open, and Astarion's footsteps damper. "No, my dear," he replied. "Thank you."

[hertenskylarks]

More 2 Cents on S3

So, I know there’s already a lot of talk going around. Here’s my 2 cents. 

In light of the recent news, I keep hearing a lot of “Oh, I hope the third season doesn’t get canceled,” and “Oh, I hope it does. Fuck Gaiman,” and “Oh, what about Terry’s vision? What about the fans? What about closure?”

I have absolutely zero control as to whether or not season 3 is made. Many arguments for and against it have already been made. I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I will offer this perspective from my own personal experience. 

I’m a swing dancer, and my rapist was my teacher and one of the first people who ever taught me how to dance. One of the things that made me hesitant to come forward was that he was one of the most likable characters in my scene. He was the funny, goofy guy who wore funky printed shirts, he was sooo nice, he couldn’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

Seeing people praise him, hearing people talk about how great he is when I knew what he did to me… It drove me absolutely mad. I just wanted to shake people and say, “No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand who he is!” But I felt like I just couldn't. I felt his reputation was too iron-clad to say anything.

Coming forward was one of the scariest things I ever did because I was so sure people either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't care. And, as predicted, that was the case for some. You can only imagine how I felt when someone I used to call my friend went on to have him officiate her wedding. You can only imagine how I felt when the response from the organizers of the dance scene was to ask me to avoid mentioning Y-Town Swing in social media posts (Oops) to protect their reputation. You can only imagine how I felt when they continued to have him as a teacher, or when they updated their safe space policy to say they are not responsible for anything that happens “outside a Y-Town swing event.” 

Oh, so if he raped me in the bathroom at the event instead it would have made a difference? Right, sorry, didn't realize the location or a rape mattered that much.

Anyway…

This was all in the confines of a small dance scene, in a small city, in a very niche hobby. Now, imagine how it must feel when your rapist and abuser is a fucking best selling author, praised as this ally to women and LGBT people, he’s the quirky guy who has a Tumblr and actually responds to his fans and he’s so cool, he’s one of us, he can’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

I can only imagine how fucking mad it drove his victims to know who he really is and see him put on such a high pedestal. 

So, however this all unfolds, I will say this. The people I care about most are the victims. I say this as someone who loved and still loves Good Omens, I say this as someone who was torn up about the final 15, as someone who rejoiced when S3 was originally announced, before all the allegations came to light. I care about the victims. 

But what about the fans? Listen, it’s a fucking TV show. Do you really mean to tell me the ending of a fictional fucking story is more important than the very real people he’s hurt? Not having an ending to your favorite show does not hold a candle to the trauma of being sexually assaulted. There’s no comparison. Not in the same ballpark. Not even in the same galaxy. 

But what about Terry?

Terry is dead and in his grave. I am sorry to say this, but whether his vision comes to life or not, he will never be the wiser. It makes no difference to him. If I could wave my magic wand and have Terry alive and well and Gaiman dead and in his grave, believe me, I definitely would, but that is not the hand we were dealt. 

So please, all I ask is this. Before you go spouting shit like, “I hope we don’t lose S3,” or “I just need to know how it ends,” put yourself in their shoes for just a second.

Imagine you are Claire, or Scarlett, or any of his other victims. Imagine you are sexually assaulted by someone whom the world just puts on a pedestal. You have to sit there and listen to him get praised as being “such a great ally to women and minorities” and “he’s one of us,” and “he’s so brilliant. He’s so cool. He really listens to his fans. Look at this quote of his I got tattooed on my body.” And for years you just sit there and take it, because you’re so fucking afraid that no one will believe you if you come forward, you’re told your story “isn’t enough,” you watch him get richer and richer while you’re stuck with the therapy bill for everyting this “great ally of women” did to you. 

Now imagine that you finally come forward. You finally muster up the will to speak your truth, and tell people what he did to you, and you find that you’re not the only person he’s hurt. The world is finally hearing your story and learning what a manipulative monster he is. 

And now, I want you to think very carefully about what it means if we still get S3. 

S3 means press tours. It means more reviews praising him as a genius. It means certain people being contractually obligated to say nice things about him, or at the very least, not say negative things about him. It means, once again, seeing his fucking horse face or his name everywhere, on Amazon, on billboards, on busses, on posters, in adverts. Only now, it's AFTER the world heard your side of the story.

Just imagine how that would feel. 

So, if it wasn't obvious by now, my stance on S3 is… I don't really want it to happen. Not out of spite or some deep seated hatred for Gaiman (although, ya know, fuck that guy) but out of consideration for the people he's hurt, as someone who knows exactly how it feels to see the person who hurt you get put on a pedestal. 

I understand that production is paused and people think he may be getting removed from the project. I'm not going to comment on that because "paused” can mean a lot of things and there's so much we don't know yet.

There will be other shows. 

There will be shows that DO have satisfying endings. 

Media and shows can be replaced. 

But there is no such thing as being un-raped. 

[dumplingsfordays]

Reading 30 Strales and omg Blade smelling like citrus sounds amazing. I've been playing for about 3 weeks and after fulling catching up on the trailblazer quests I was like dang blade kills people a lot right, he probably smells like blood 24/7 that's so gross. All this to say... reject logic, I agree that blade smells like citrus. Do you have thoughts on what any of the others would smell like?

what the hsr men smell like

ft. blade, gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, luocha, and welt

cw!: mentions of blood, no pronouns for reader mentioned, implied relationship, cuddling, swearing, super fluffy :)

note - thank you so much for reaching out to me omg 🥺 i reject logic too so that's how the whole citrus thing came to be ajsjdk. also i know absolutely nothing about colognes/fragrances so i'm sorry if i mess some of these up ;-; hope you're having a great day/night though pookie <3

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

blade

~ as mentioned above, def smells like citrus and bergamot.

~ sometimes you can catch a little metallic-y whiff of (cough cough) def not blood (cough cough), but it never lasts for long - when he hugs you, the smell of oranges invades your senses like a light summer breeze~

~ and don't get me started on how obsessed he is w this scent. if he stays somewhere for even 1-2 days, you know he's bringing along his 3 freakin citrus-scented candles!!

~ please run your fingers thru his hair when you're hanging out or cuddling. please. he will melt from headpats and your fingers will smell like his shampoo for the rest of the day, and since you love the scent of gentle lime, why not?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

gepard

~ omg this man!! he's totally giving cashmere + hot cocoa for some reason??? he doesn't really use cologne/fragrances and prefers his natural scent, but does use cashmere and vanilla body wash + shampoo.

~ like sure, after a busy day at work or training he'll kinda smell like sweat but will immediately take a shower when he gets home. he hates being sweaty and thinks it's icky if he does for too long-

~ and when you snuggle up to him for cuddle time on a day off, you just wanna stay there forever bc his scent envelops you like a blanket on freezing winter nights <3

~ overall very comforting and warm, just like Gepard himself!! (cries in human heater vibes)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

jing yuan

~ musk + cinnamon + a little bit of spice, and def uses cologne.

~ actually wants to smell nice and puts in the effort!! changes his sheets, washes his clothes, showers every day (but washes his hair every 3 days or so bc haircare)

~ speaking of haircare, this man's big on it. most of his haircare products smell like the aforementioned musk and cinnamon, but he uses this one cream that smells like cloves and you freakin adore it. sometimes you borrow it so that whenever you're going out and he's busy with his big boy general duties, it feels like he's with u <3

~ and ughhhh his bedroom smells like him so whenever you guys have le cuddle time you fall asleep almost immediately. ofc he eventually does too (bc he loves how u smell too pookie, don't tell him i said that though he would kill me aksjskd) and you're so warm and soft and how could he not fall asleep??

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

dan heng

~ very ocean-y (salty?), small hints of eucalyptus and cypress as well. when he uses cologne he uses very, very little, but he actually has 2 separate colognes, one for the ocean-y cypress, and the other for the eucalyptus

~ i feel like this is kinda a bold statement but he uses bath bombs. like he gets a bath bomb that smells like mint, gets in the bathtub w it, and glides his thumbs over its surface bc he likes the texture-

~ he might not be the cleanest man in the universe, but he sure does smell like it!! something about eucalyptus and cypress and mint and a hint of ocean breeze is chillingly refreshing and tbh you kinda dig it :D

~ mornings w dan heng. omfg they are ethereal bc he literally smells angelic??? like a gentle freshness yk and the pillows smell like him too so lazy mornings are def a thing that you guys love sharing <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

luocha

~ oooo he's kinda a wild card imo, but personally, i think that he smells like jasmine + honey (not just bc of his idle + technique!! pinky promise)

~ he lowkey smells a little like freshly-cut grass, very light n refreshing. however, jasmine takes center stage, and if you really bury your face in his long-ass hair, you can catch a whiff of chamomile :))

~ super big on herbal teas and honey as well - i hc that he brings a water bottle w him that's just green tea n honey so when you're close to his face (cuddling, hugging, etc) the honey adds this sweetness that blends super well w the aforementioned chamomile + jasmine <3

~ like jing yuan, super involved in haircare!! he does use less products, but you still freakin adore this chamomile shampoo that he uses. avid believer in aromatherapy, prob uses essential oils (not for curing cancer ofc)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

welt

~ coffee and amberwood!! both are deep and rich scents and he probably uses cologne in very small amounts aksjdks

~ coffee addict and the scent faintly lingers, so the amberwood is really more prominent, but overall i promise he doesn't smell like dust or smth, he's not that old he takes good care of himself :))

~ burns incense in his room bc it helps him relax and concentrate on his drawings, so he does have a little resin smell to him, but you don't mind bc it's actually quite comforting. he once almost caused a fire bc he dropped a lit match onto the carpet but we don't talk about that-

~ loves to hug you so whenever he does, you always feel so cozy and loved and aaaaa ya'll are so cute i can't <3 and since he's pretty tall he sometimes rests his head on top of yours and hugs you from behind like that and you melt immediately bc it's like a blanket!! but smells super nice!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

[asumofwords]

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Drug use, drinking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Jesus christ, this is a monster chapter, but I also don't want to cut it down and split it up. Hehe, thank you all for your love for the last chapter! Poor Aemond and poor reader! Anyway, Enjoy! <3

Chapter 13: Proposition

The evening came quickly, and Helaena had dressed you in a deep green, silk dress. It came to your mid thigh and had a swooping cow neck at the front. Thin straps went over your shoulders and crossed at the low back of the dress, the material light and flowing, soft against your skin.

Helaena told you that she would never wear it when you had argued with her about putting it on, and had even insisted upon you keeping it afterwards. You paired it with some black heels and gold jewellery, with your hair up and away from your face, keeping the nape of your neck cool in the warm air. 

Helaena wore a long lavender dress that almost matched her eyes, a sheer netting over the top of it with embroidered and beaded stars and constellations. She looked ethereal, and you felt over dressed for a dinner with her family. But she had told you to live a little, and that they would all be dressed to the nines, ensuring that you wouldn’t be joined by her sister and her husband.

When you made your way downstairs, heels clicking against the stone floors, Helaena had steered you away from a smaller, more intimate dining hall, and back outside to the long table you had passed that morning. 

The table was covered with glimmering candle light, smaller fairy lights nestled amongst the table whilst large candelabras stood tall in the middle and further to the edges, casting it aglow in a warm light. Fairy lights were strung in the trees in your periphery, and the whole scene reminded you of what an intimate wedding celebration would feel like.

However this was just a normal night for the Targaryen and Velaryon family. 

The latter, already sitting at the table. 

Lucerys’ head had lifted at your arrival, wide smile spreading across his cheeks as he looked up at you. Jacaerys following his line of sight mirrored his smile and stood, younger brother standing, before both came around the table to engulf you in a tight embrace. 

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Jace smiled, flicking his eyes to his aunt and then back to you again. 

“Last minute plans.” You chuckled, hoping they wouldn’t sense any tension from you, or the fact that your chest still felt sudden aches when the thought of a tall, silver haired man popped into your mind.

“Glad you came,” Luc added, “You’ll be able to meet mum.”

Mum.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, a woman of conviction and power. You would be lying if you said she wasn’t an inspiration to you. Defying all odds and sexism within the industry and profession of law, and surpassing her male counterparts with an ease that could only be graced upon someone from birth or with hard work.

“I would like that.” You smiled back. 

Helaena led you to sit with her in the middle of the table, opposite the two brothers, and the four of you dissolved into comfortable chatter as you waited for the others, the sound of cooking and smell of food wafting from the kitchen just inside. 

When Daeron had arrived, he had chosen to sit beside his sister, nodding at his nephews before asking Jacaerys, with a cheeky glint in his eye, how the Tully boys were. Jacaerys, clearly now aware of his friend and uncles little tryst, asked him back how Kermit was.

“Very good.” The youngest Targaryen sibling smirked.

Lucerys blushed. 

You were mid conversation with Jacaerys before his eyes lit up, looking behind you. You turned to see a vision of blue and silver. Your breath stilled in your chest. 

Baela and Rhaena stood behind you, the twins looking as though they had been plucked from the stars themselves. Rhaena wore a deep blue dress which glimmered as she moved, small flecks of sliver glinting like the night sky. Her locks were long down her back, held together by silver clasps that had small stars and jewels that dripped off of them.

Baela stood beside her twin sister, thigh length silver dress with a high neck and low back, covered in a mesh that dripped off of her like cobwebs. Her silver coils were half up, half down on the top of her head, held by a simple claw clip. 

You had to blink to get yourself to stop staring at them.

No wonder people thought these families were descended from Gods. 

You, in that moment, felt awfully plain. 

You stood and went to embrace the two girls, little squeals pealing from all of your mouths as you hugged each other with joy. It had been a while since you had seen the pair last, and now that they were here, you felt suddenly excited to be at the Keep.

Baela’s eyes roamed over your body, “Damn girl, look at you. If only Cregan could see you now.” 

You instantly blushed, slapping her shoulder lightly, “Flattery won’t get me into your bed, Bae.”

The twin smirked, “Worth a try.”

“You think I haven’t?” Helaena joked, mock rejection on her features. 

You all sat down, Baela beside Jacaerys, and Rhaena beside Luc, chatting excitedly with each other as Daeron popped the cork of some wine, and Helaena, a bottle of champagne, filling up the respecting glasses of everyone who sat at the table. Reaching forth, you took your champagne glass, bubbles fluttering up the glass flute as you clinked yours amongst everyone else’s and sipped. 

It was sweet, and smooth, almost creamy to the taste, and you realised that this was probably the best champagne you had ever had. You took another sip, much larger than the last, deciding to let loose for the evening with your friends, enjoying the warm burn of the alcohol as it passed down your throat. 

You were laughing with Jacaerys, reminiscing how he had gotten too drunk one night and passed out on Cregan’s couch, cuddling a pillow to his chest, when Baela’s perfectly manicured brow lifted, eyes looking behind you. 

Aegon appeared from within, two bottles of alcohol in either hand and a clear ziplock bag hanging from clenched teeth.

Inside, four meticulously rolled joints.

He sat down beside you with a huff, plopping the drinks onto the table noisily with a clunk, one tequila, the other, some sort of amber drink, whiskey or brandy perhaps.

He pulled the zip lock bag from his mouth and threw it unceremoniously into the middle of the table. Baela smirked, and Rhaena snatched the bag up to inspect its contents.

“Fuck yes.” The younger twin, Baela always made a point that she was born first of the two of them, exclaimed.

“The King shall always provide to his loyal subjects.” Aegon joked in mock regality as he looked down at everyone from his nose. 

“Come off it.” Daeron groused, “Is it the good stuff, or the shit stuff you give to people you hate?”

Hand on chest, Aegon gasped, “How dare you insinuate that I would give you bum blunts. An outrage, I say.”

“It’s the good shit.” Helaena confirmed, grimace on her lips, “Egg forgot to tell me that when he offered me one last week. I smoked the whole fucking thing in one hit thinking it was the shit stuff from last time. I had never been so close to greening in my life.”

Jacaerys' eyes widened, “You? Greening? Jesus, must be the good stuff then.”

“Only the best for Daddy.” Aegon smirked, eyes flicking to you. 

Heat rose in your cheeks.

Be a good girl for daddy.

You crossed your legs tightly at the memory of Aemond driving his length into your folds. 

Aegon noticed your reaction but said nothing, the faintest push of his tongue caught in his cheek.

“Right,” He clapped his hands, grabbing the bottle of tequila, cracking open its corked cap, “We are all going to get royally messy this evening because I am tired of seeing my nephews sappy, sullen faces.” 

Jacaerys and Lucerys frowned.

Aegon grabbed your champagne glass from your fingers, a small grunt of disapproval from your lips as you watched him throw the remaining drink down the back of his throat. He then tipped the tequila bottle against your champagne flute and began to pour. 

“Woah!” Your hand lifted the lip of the tequila away from your flute, a drip rolling down your finger.

He had almost filled it half way full. 

Aegon raised his brow at the others as the chefs began to bring out the food and place it on the table, the bag of joints not being moved from plain sight.

You supposed the chefs did not care, and were only paid to cook. 

The smell from the dinner made your mouth water, each dish perfectly made to different tastes and requirements. Baela and Rhaena had fish, Jace and Luc, lamb. Daeron had a vegetarian pasta of sorts, and Hel the same. Aegon was given a large steak with mashed potato and a red sauce that swirled delicately over the plate, baby carrots steamed atop.

And for you, your favourite dish. 

You eyed Helaena in shock and she had shrugged, essentially telling you that she had requested it for you. You smiled at her warmly in thanks, nudging her with your shoulder. 

All around the table, everyone began to drain their wines and champagnes, where Aegon then filled their flutes and glasses with either tequila or the amber alcohol, which you came to learn was a honey smoked whiskey. But in Aegon's case, he took two glasses for himself, and filled them both.

Laughter and smiles were plentiful around the table as you all ate and drank, the warmth from the tequila seeping into your pores. Each sip was smooth, though still hard to swallow. Your face would scrunch each time, and Aegon would almost always snicker at you. You had not been given a chaser nor a mixer.

When dinner had finished, and dessert had been served after, a soft meringue with strawberry puree and passionfruit pulp, Jacaerys had suggested that you all go for a midnight dip. 

You and the girls had raced to Helaena’s room to get changed into your swimmers, drunkenly stumbling and giggling through the Keep, careful to not make too much noise to disturb Rhaenyra and Daemon, and their three younger children, though it would be hard with the enormity of the estate. 

Criston Cole had met you on the stairs when he came to investigate a stream of squeals that Helaena had let loose as she had slipped on a bottom step and landed heavily onto her bum in laughter. 

His deep eyes had narrowed, and Helaena had given him a dismissive wave as she lifted herself, grabbing your arm and Baela’s, who in turn grabbed Rhaena’s, before you all made a mad dash out the kitchen, past the table, alcohol and joints missing from them.

The boys were already inside of the spa, large enough to hold at least twenty people, but intimate enough for you all to be spread apart and for it not to feel weird. Bubbles foamed at the surface as Jacaerys passed his joint to Aegon blowing the smoke from his lips, head tilted back to the sky.

“Took your time.” Aegon teased, joint at his mouth as he inhaled. 

The night sky was clear, bright stars twinkling above you as a quiet settled over the estate. The sound of crickets and cicadas were loud in your ears, and you could have sworn that once or twice, over the sounds of the others and the jets of the spa, that you had heard an owl. It was a warm night, but not too warm to make the steaming, bubbling water uncomfortable.

You climbed in beside Aegon, Helaena beside you, with the twins beside the two brown haired brothers. It was clear that they had a stronger bond to each other rather than their aunt and uncles, having grown up together after their mother had passed, and Daemon had married Rhaenyra. 

“Hel fell down the stairs.” You giggled, taking the champagne flute Daeron held out to you, actual champagne inside this time, not tequila. You thanked him silently and took a steady sip of the drink.

Luc snorted, making grabby hands at Aegon who still held the joint. The eldest uncle narrowed his eyes at the younger boy before reaching across the water to hand it to him, snatching it back teasingly just before the Velaryon's fingers could have grabbed it, before finally letting the youngest of the group have it. 

“Don’t you green out." Aegon teased, "Your mother will kill me.”

Your mother. 

Not sister.

Not Rhaenyra.

Your mother. 

The dynamics of this family was certainly strained, but amongst the sons and daughters, what little tension there had bled away with the steady hum of the bubbling spa, the flowing of drinks, and the high that all got from the joints Aegon had provided.

Jacaerys had offered it to you, and you had taken it with slightly pruny fingers, inhaling a small drag, as per Helaena’s warning, feeling the dry smoke, not at all like cigarettes, move into your lungs. You held in a small cough, and then breathed it out, tingles rippling up your skin. 

Oh shit.

It was the good stuff.

A small littering of giggles exploded from you as you handed it to Aegon, whose smirk only got wider. 

“You should have seen his face!” Jacaerys laughed, watching as Lucerys grumbled beside him, smile working its way on his lips as Jace retold the story of Cerwyn and Dalton Greyjoys propositions to both you and Cregan.

“Did baby Luc get scandalised?” Aegon teased, lips pouting at his nephew. 

Luc’s cheeks flushed as he grumbled, “I wasn’t scandalised. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“How did you not expect it from Dalton? The man is a walking sex toy.” Baela teased, hand pushing back a stray curl from her face.

The water of the spa was warming you up. That and the alcohol, and maybe also the joint combined. And also maybe because the topic of discussion had suddenly come to your sex life. 

Uh oh.

“So,” Daeron turned to you, “Did you take them up on their offer?” 

All eyes were on you.

You blushed, bringing the champagne to your lips to sip, hoping the cold drink would cool you down.

“No. But I did consider it.” You smirked, feeling a little bolder, “Cerwyn I hadn’t expected, but Dalton had tried his luck before.”

A wet arm wrapped over your shoulders, Aegon pulling you towards him lazily, “And what did the ‘King of The North’ think about this all? Are you two still bumping uglies?”

You turned to look at Aegon, whose face was startlingly close to yours, his lids half shut with ease, violet eyes slightly glassy from the joint. It was clear he was high, and drunk, but there was something else about the way he looked at you. 

You scoffed a laugh, “It’s complicated.” You omitted the part where Aemond was the complicated part, “Cregan actually encouraged me to think about it. And to be honest, I did.”

“No way.” Rhaena smiled widely, “Dude, where do you find these men?”

You laughed, head thrown back, “Rhae, if I knew, I would tell you. They just find me somehow. Annoying sometimes, really.”

“Speaking of annoying,” Baela butted in, “Heard you’ve been sharing close quarters with Aemond.”

Your heart raced in your chest. 

You looked to Helaena as you swallowed thickly. 

Had she told Baela?

“Can't believe Aemond isn’t here. Mummy’s favourite.” Aegon grumped, “Twat.”

“Hey.” Helaena piped in, chastising her brother, “Don’t be a dick. You know he hates it here.”

Aegon clicked his tongue at his sister and lit another joint beside you, fingers lightly tracing over your shoulder, goosebumps erupting on your skin. You felt your nipples stiffen, pressing against the material of your bikini in response, and you sunk lower into the bubbles to hide it.

Everything was heightened, the alcohol, the high, the warmth of his body and the water around you, his touch. And it was hard to not feel some sort of involuntary reaction. 

Baela looked at you expectantly, as did all else. 

“It’s fine. He’s quiet. Keeps to himself mostly.” You explained, suddenly feeling like you were on the witness stand. 

No-one responded, all waiting for you to continue, as though you hadn’t given them the answer they wanted to hear, and so you did, “He can be a dick at times, and we have gone head to head on numerous occasions.”

Jacaerys laughed, and Luc smiled widely. Both knowingly enjoying your answer.

Daeron and Aegon looked at their nephews.

“What?” Aegon asked, curiosity laced in his voice.

“Y/n brought Cregan over after a fight with Aemond, and let’s just say, they weren’t quiet about it.”

Aegon’s laugh exploded across the pool area and everyone else followed, head thrown backwards against the damp tile of the spa as he laughed. His eyes were scrunched closed, and you noticed the faint blush that rose on his cheeks. 

Aegon was handsome, in a soft way. There was nothing sharp about his features, bar perhaps the top of his jaw, and his lips were far less severe than Aemond’s. It was no surprise to you that Aegon got around. A whore Helaena called him. He had this naturally flirty charm around him, and this cocksure personality, but you knew, beneath it all, that there was the same insecurities that Aemond had. Only Aegon was better at hiding it. Or, not really. He was just better at drowning it out between the legs of someone new, alcohol or drugs, or some blissful combination of the three. 

But there was no denying that he was just as beautiful as the others. 

Aegon stopped his laughter and looked at you, your head swimming in the clouds. A smirk pulled at his rosy lips, and his eyes lowered to your mouth momentarily. You snapped your head away, feeling guilty and all too exposed, heat rising within you again. 

The twins raised a brow at you in unison. 

Goddamn twin connection.

“I bet Aemy would have hated that. Or maybe even loved it.” Aegon teased, and Helaena scrunched her face in disgust.

“I’ve heard Y/n and Cregan before. They’re not quiet, let me tell you that much. My noise cancelling headphones are probably my best investment.” She teased, and you felt your face and chest bloom with heat. 

You stood suddenly, water sloughing off your body as everyone looked up at you.

“It’s hot. Is anyone else hot? I’m hot. I’m going to go in the pool. Okay. Yep.” You babbled, flustered.   

One leg after the other you walked speedily to the cool water of the pool, feeling everyones eyes on your back, but most of all, the heated gaze that lingered on the globes of your ass. 

Aegon was not at all being shy with the way he was checking you out. 

You jumped straight into the icy pool feeling the cold water shock you into a more sobered state. You rose to the surface with a squeak, and watched as Baela and Rhaena stood, running towards you directly as they cannon balled, in sync, in front of you. You laughed at the large splash, and soon, in no time at all, everyone joined you in the pool, giggling and joking and splashing around loudly.

The rest of the night was spent in good spirits, but Aegon’s gaze never seemed to leave you. And even in your drunken/high state, you knew that that was a line that you would not cross. 

Could not cross, even if you wanted to.

As the night grew long and you lay looking up at the stars beside Helaena, sharing the last joint, you all decided to pack it in for the night and head to bed, cheeks rosy and eyes glazed. You all but fell into bed with Helaena, not bothering to change into pyjamas, the both of you stripping nude in a tangle of giggles as you slid to each respected sides of the bed facing each other. 

You had the girlish giddiness sneak up on the both of you, and soon enough, your stomachs were cramping with how much you had laughed. Helaena was the first to fall asleep, and you shortly after, pulled down into the warmth of rest alongside her. 

-

When you rose the next morning, your head felt a thousand pounds heavier, and you struggled to sit up right. Helaena was no better, groaning as she rubbed her eyes, hangover sweeping the life out of the the both of you with no mercy.

Although you were both as dusty as dirt, you felt slightly better about the whole reasoning of you being here. You felt less guilty of being with your best friend and her family, and even felt good knowing that you had gotten some space from Aemond in the mean time. 

You didn’t even really mean to think of him, your chest aching at the thought, but you attempted to brush it aside anyway.

Needing a distraction, and possibly a good morning doom scroll, you pulled your phone from the nightstand which you had left and forgotten the whole day before. 

Clicking open the screen, you were met with a barrage of texts.

From Aemond.

You looked at the texts for a moment, heart immediately beginning to race in your chest, which caused the headache that had been steadily blooming to thump in the back of your head.

You gnawed at your lip roughly looking at the texts over and over.

What do you say?

Clearly he was feeling bad, and wanted to talk to you, but what if he wanted to tell you that he was moving back with Alys? What if he wanted to talk about her? You didn’t know if you could face that just yet. 

You both needed time. 

Space. 

And he needed to think about what he had said. 

About what he wanted. 

You fingers hovered over the keyboard. 

Do you text him to tell him you were okay? Even though you were not? 

If you opened up the conversation by responding, he would no doubt suck you back in, and you were not ready for that yet.

“I’m never drinking again.” Helaena groaned from beside you, turning over. Her eyes were red rimmed with shadows underneath, and her hair was an absolute mess of waves and tangles, the chlorine having made the silver strands wispy and dry. 

You locked your phone, not responding to Aemond as you placed it back on the bedside table. That was something you would face later, with a full stomach and a clear mind. Y

es, that’s what you would do, let yourself think of a way to respond. 

And so you left him on read.

You cracked a smile at Helaena and giggled, “You always say that.”

“I mean it this time.” She clutched her head and whined, rolling onto her back, “The day I got you in my bed naked, I never would have imagined it would be like this.”

“You’re such a perv, Hel.”

“You love it.” She snickered, and you laughed.

The next few days in the Keep were spent by the pool with Helaena and her family, your presence acting as some sort of buffer between the Velaryon's and Targaryen’s, who warmed up to each other considerably with each day past. You were thankful for Rhaena and Baela’s presence, who seemed to humble Aegon greatly in a way that Helaena couldn’t. 

Though you had still felt his eyes lingering on you here and there, but it all stopped one day, rather abruptly, no more flirty comments, no more flirty half lidded gazes, no eyes flickering to your lips and back. Not even a mention or liken to being a Gazelle, and instead, Aegon had become the perfect gentleman. You wondered if Helaena had said something, and actually suspected as such when the two would share glances at each other whenever Aemond was mentioned.

However, you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to flog a dead horse. There was no new development to that story. No new change. 

Nothing. 

Except the texts from him.

You had not checked your phone since you saw those messages, and in fact, were too scared to even look at it in case there were now more. You had left Aemond on read, and felt a great deal of guilt about it. But you were hurting too. And really, you didn’t want to burden Helaena with another stupid breakdown when her family was readying themselves for a death.

The death of the patriarch at that.

That morning, Baela and Rhaena had crawled into bed with you and Helaena in the early hours, telling you that Rhaenyra and Alicent had organised for the whole family to have dinner that evening, and that their step mother was looking forward to talking to you.

“They’ve heard great things about your work at the firm from Alicent.” Rhaena explained. 

Alicent had spoken about your work at the firm to them? 

That meant Larys had spoken to Alicent about you, or Helaena did. You wondered how often your name came up in conversation between the Hightower’s and Strong’s. You shivered at the image of the latter.

Disgusting little man.

Where the night of your dinner a few days before had made you a little nervous, the prospect of the dinner tonight set you on edge. You had sat in front of Helaena’s vanity and worried over your makeup, taking it off only to reapply it again almost three times, feeling that not once it had been right. Helaena had told you to take steady breaths, and you had, letting her fix your eye makeup before she gave you a deep, red dress to wear. 

You frowned. 

Helaena never wore red.

“Where did you get this?” You asked her, feeling the soft material glide through your fingers. 

“Saw it and thought of you. It would be perfect for tonight.”

Your mouth hung open, “Hel, no. Return this. I can’t wear this, it’s too much.” You held out the dress to her. 

The material alone would have cost a fortune, and you didn’t even want to think about how much it truly would have cost. 

“Oh, come off it. It was going to be your birthday present, but I hate waiting, and tonight seems a good night to wear it.” She insisted, bright eyes shining at you excitedly.

“Hel…” You said uncertain.

When would she stop with her generosity? It was spinning you in circles.

“At least put it on for me.” She sighed, “Please.”

You rubbed the soft material through your fingers, looking at the way it moved like water across your skin, thinking of other options that you had brought with you.

But what else would you wear?

You had some other dresses you could, but they were more going out for drinks kind of dresses, or day drinking ones in the sun. Not at all something you would wear to dine with Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. 

You swallowed dryly.

Why was this making you so nervous?

Looking back up at Helaena, you saw that she was watching you expectantly, with a hopeful eye that she barely contained. 

There was no saying no to her.

“Okay,” You acquiesed, and watched as a bright smile cracked across her lips, “But I’m only going to try it on, and then you need to take this back to the store. It's too much, Hel. I'm serious.”

The Targaryen shooed you with her hands to change, “Yeah, yeah. Scold me after you put it on.”

You stripped quickly as Helaena fixed her hair in the mirror, the material gliding over your skin, clinging to your curves in a way that made you feel like perhaps it had even been made for you. The material was soft and cool, but warmed quickly against your body, thin straps and a low back, the dress coming down to your ankles. 

It was unlike anything you had ever owned. 

You spun around, looking at yourself in the mirror, hearing Helaena gasp behind you, tucking a wavy curl behind her ear as her bright eyes roamed your body.

“You look so fucking beautiful.”

Your hands smoothed down your sides as you looked at yourself.

You felt beautiful. But it was still too much. 

You moved to the bed, looking at the other dresses that you had laid on the sheets.

“Okay, now that I’ve tried it on, you gotta take it back.”

“I can’t.” Helaena said, matter of fact.

Your head lifted, and you narrowed your eyes, "Sure you can. Take it back to the store.” You picked up a soft amber coloured dress. It had sweet ruffles to the skirt and lace trimming, but only came to mid thigh, “Do you think this would be okay?” You held up the dress to Helaena.

“You’re wearing that dress.”

You sighed annoyed, “No.”

“Yes. I didn’t get a receipt. So I can’t take it back.”

“Surely you can-“

“-Nooope.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.” She grinned, standing, “Anyway, time to go. Can’t change now.”

“Hel.”

The Targaryen woman just smirked at you cheekily, and you saw hints of Aegon’s mischief in her eyes.

“You’ve been plotting.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“When am I not? Besides, like I said, it's a present.”

You grunted, annoyed that she was so stubborn, but also so grateful for something so beautiful. You really could not have asked for a more kind and caring best friend. 

“Fine, but it’s birthday and Christmas.”

Helaena shrugged, watching as you put on some simple black shoes. 

-

When you got downstairs, the table outside was made and ready, candles lining them again in a similar way that they had a few nights before, only this time, the table setting was more particular. There were three plates stacked atop each other for every person, a large one, medium, and then small, and beside the plates were three different sized forks, knives and spoons. 

Your breath nearly stilled in your chest as you saw her.

Rhaenyra Targaryen.

A living legend.

One of the best of the best in the realm, and beside her, her husband, known for his abrasive, but successful, skills in court. And they were just as beautiful as the rest. 

Rhaenyra had long flowing silver hair, pulled back by braids at the back of her skull. Her nose was sharp and aquiline, and as you looked at her, you saw more Aemond in her than any of the other children of Viserys. They both had plump, yet sharp lips, high cheekbones, and jaws to match. 

Perhaps Aemond wasn’t so much of an outlier as you thought, and perhaps, as Rhaenyra was the first and eldest child of Viserys, the other Hightower/Targaryen children were more Hightower than Targaryen, bar their Valyrian features. 

She was speaking politely to Alicent, and although you could see strain and tension between the two of them, it was clear that it was amicable, and perhaps there was now a standing of mutual respect between the two.

You remembered what Cregan had told you about Alicent trying to sue Rhaenyra for Lucerys’ and Aemond’s accident, but there was something more to the tension than just that. 

Alicent’s gaze lingered far too long at Rhaenyra for it to be a step-mother and daughter interaction. You suspected there was another added layer to the family dynamics that you weren’t aware of. 

Hearing your approach, Alicent broke her eye contact with the woman beside her and looked towards the two of you, a polite, loving smile thrown your way.

Daemon didn’t smile at you, but his gaze was more than polite. You suspected he didn’t do pleasantries as the two women did. 

“You look beautiful girls.” Alicent beamed, standing to welcome you to the table with a show of hands.

It felt more like a business meeting rather than a family dinner. 

Was this why Helaena shied away from these things?

You sat opposite Rhaenyra, and Helaena opposite her mum. Jacaerys and Lucerys were already at the table, as was Baela and Rhaena, Daeron and Aegon yet to arrive. 

You smiled at your friends before settling your gaze on Rhaenyra, who was watching you with kind eyes.

“You must be Y/n.” Her voice as smooth as honey, “The boys have told me much about you.”

Heat rose in your cheeks, shyly peaking a glance as Luc and Jace raised their brows at you.

“All good things I hope.” You smiled back.

It was hard to contain your excitement. Hard to act normal and not like you were freaking out about sitting, and eating, and talking with someone you looked up to in the world of law.

“The good, the bad, and the ugly I’m afraid.” Daemon purred, lip twitching into a teasing smirk.

Oh gods. 

You hoped you didn’t look as flustered as you felt.

Rhaenyra shook her head playfully, reaching to pick up her glass of red wine delicately with just two fingers at the bottom fo the stem.

How the hell did she do that?

Shuffling came from behind you and you turned to watch Daeron and Aegon arrive, Aegon fiddling with the buttons at his wrist.

“Sons.” Alicent greeted them.

“Mother.” Aegon responded, tone flat.

The tension was back.

Aegon sat beside you, giving you a small smile before he turned his line of sight to his half-sister who sat opposite him.

“Sister.”

“Aegon. It’s good to see you. How have you been?”

Aegon grabbed his wine glass and filled it almost to the brim, “Peachy with Viserys on the fritz.”

Your eyes bulged.

Oh shit.

“Aegon.” Alicent hissed, cheeks red with anger.

“What?” He replied back cooly, sipping the wine, “It’s why we are all together again. One big happy family.” 

Aegon, it was clear to you now, had been drinking before he arrived to the table.

Daemon let out an amused giggle, and you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to not laugh awkwardly as a reaction. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenrya spoke with resignation, her eyes flicking from Aegon, to Daeron, to Helaena, then back to Aegon, “You’ve grown.”

And as quick as a whip, Aegon replied back, “You haven’t.”

A smirk pulled at Rhaenyra’s lips, and you felt the tension begin to fizzle away, reaching for your own wine to sip at, because Gods know that you would need it. 

“I suppose not. Are you well?”

“Well as I can be, all things considered.” The eldest son of Viserys replied.

The eldest child of Viserys nodded solemnly, sipping daintily at her wine, eyes over the rim of the glass as the servers began to place your entree's on the table.

You all ate quietly, Alicent filling the void with mindless chatter and questions or topics that she used to attempt to ease some of whatever tension was lingering. She asked the twins about their travels, and Daeron about his time in Old Town, despite already knowing about it. And it was then that you realised, that despite her ‘chattiness’ to everyone else at the table, she almost refused to acknowledge the two brown haired men who sat with the twins. 

Alicent did not once, lay her eyes on Jacaerys and Lucerys, nor did she include them in conversation, and it was clear to all that she had done it, but what was clearer, was that everyone was aware and did nothing. 

As though it was a regular occurrence. 

The main course came, with salads and side dishes that filled the table, and new wines brought to match each dish, glasses being filled by the servers intermittently as they came in and out. 

“So, Y/n.” Rhaenyra addressed you, “I heard that you are studying and working full-time? Surely that must be a difficult thing to manage?” She cut at the meat on her plate, a small slice, before bringing it to her lips to chew thrice and then swallowing. 

You placed your cutlery down in a way you had watched Alicent do every time she spoke or was addressed.

“I am. I work at Alicent’s firm and go to KLU with Helaena.” You confirmed, feeling nervous to be speaking to her. You hoped you didn’t make a fool of yourself, “It can be a bit crazy when exams and due dates come around, but I like a challenge.” You let yourself huff a little laugh at the end, not wanting to admit that working and studying full-time was tearing at your sanity, and your wallet.

Daemon picked up a wine glass, leaning back comfortably in his chair as he watched you. 

You fought to not squirm in your seat, suddenly feeling like you were being cross examined. This must be what it was like when people took the stand and had Daemon Targaryen drill them with questions.

He took a sip, then gave you a sweet smile. Daemon was a handsome man, low brow bone, strong jaw, and piercing eyes that didn’t once leave your face. 

“What are you studying?” He asked, taking another sip. 

You saw Alicent in your periphery look at you in interest. 

Not once in all your years knowing her had she asked you that. 

Nor did you even know if she knew. 

“I’m a History Major,” You explained, shifting in your seat as you felt everyone looking at you, “But I chose Poetry as a minor for fun.”

“Poetry?” Rhaenyra’s brows lifted in intrigue, “My brother is a fan." How did she know that about Aemond? "And how did a History Major come to work in a law firm?”

“Oh, well.” You suddenly felt as though perhaps you shouldn’t have said anything, “I needed a job, bills to pay and all that, and I saw a secretary position at Red Keep Law. I applied, and to be honest, didn’t think I would get it. But, here I am.”

Alicent smiled at you before she turned to face Daemon and Rhaenyra, “She’s an excellent worker. Learns quickly, and from all accounts from Larys,” Daemon groaned, rolling his eyes at your boss’ name, “She makes a fine edition to the firm.”

Daemon sipped his wine once again, placing it on the table as he leant forward, hands resting atop the wooden surface, “And how is our dear Larys Strong? Following Alicent’s footsteps?”

Your lips pulled downwards as you tried to not laugh, feeling heat in your cheeks as you swiped up your wine to swallow, hoping it would sink the laugh along with it. 

So it was not a secret then. 

All knew about Larys’ foot inclinations, and his other inclination towards Alicent Hightower.

The auburn haired woman clearly didn’t like where this conversation was going, and jumped in, “Larys is a hardworking and loyal man. It hasn’t been easy since the death of Harwin and his father.” Her eyes narrowed cooly towards Rhaenyra, and you felt the whole table hold their breath, “Losing someone you love is never easy.”

Lucerys and Jacaerys exchanged glances, and you felt that there was more than one thing that was being left unsaid.

Rhaenyra however, did not show that she was affected by Alicent’s comment, and returned her attention back towards you with a warm and practised smile, “Do you have plans to study law after you finish your degree?”

You followed Rhaenyra’s lead to avoid the tension, “I definitely am thinking about it, but its a long degree, and it’s a little more time consuming than what I’m already doing. I worry it’ll affect my ability to work. But, perhaps in the future when I’m more settled.” You ended with a smile, and Daemon and Rhaenyra shared a look, both turning to grin at you.

The rest of the evening went quietly, conversation a little bit stunted after Daemon and Alicent’s silent war, their eyes constantly narrowing on each other. Clearly they did not get along, especially with the Hightower throwing some sort of shade towards Rhaenyra. 

Was it shade about Larys? Or his brother, Harwin? Or some other lover or connection between the two women?

It was clear that Jacaerys and Lucerys looked nothing like a ‘traditional' Targaryen, what with their brown hair and even browner eyes, but you knew that Rhaenyra’s grandmother had brown hair. Jace and Luc had told you this once when you asked, much to Cregan’s dismay, why they looked nothing like their aunt. But genetics were tricky like that, unpredictable. You could remember learning about it once, punnet squares you think you recall from your high school biology class, and you were certainly not a biologist to argue or question it. Nor would you, in case there was another reason for it.

Perhaps Rhaenyra’s previous husband had strong brunette genes somewhere along the line.

Regardless, Daemon clearly loved the boys as his own, and Rhaenyra beamed at Baela and Rhaena whenever she could. Their relationships to their partners children from previous marriages was healthy, sweet, and to you, something that you wished Alicent somehow had with her own children. 

Alicent loved her kids, there was no denying this, but her ability to show it to them was, at best, subpar. But everyone was different, and perhaps her father Otto, Helaena’s grandfather, was not the most warmest or affectionate of men.

Alicent and Rhaenyra were the same age, and the both were so very different. Alicent was stern and stiff, where Rhaenyra more warm and flexible. But both were staunchly protective of their own, and loved them in their own special way. 

You saw a lot of Aemond in both Rhaenyra and Alicent. Alicent’s cool disposition, and Rhaenyra’s fiery passion. Not to mention, Aemond and Rhaenyra looked more similar than any of her other siblings.

Towards the end of the evening, the warm buzz of alcohol spreading through all, most of the table quietly chatting amongst themselves, Criston Cole came out to the garden, walking directly to Alicent where he whispered into her ear.

Alicent stiffened, and Rhaenyra, seeing the woman beside hers reaction became concerned, brows cinching together. 

“Thank you, Cole.” Alicent spoke, voice even. She looked amongst the table, at her children, and then finally to Rhaenyra, “Viserys has asked for me.” She told his eldest child, and you watched as the silver haired woman visibly relaxed, nodding her head, though there was still a furrow in her brows. 

It must be hard, watching your father become sicker and sicker, anticipating that each day would be his last. You had been told that Viserys’ bond to Rhaenyra was strong, and he clearly loved her dearly, especially with what you had been told about him calling her his only child in a moment of drug addled confusion.

But what happened next was something that you could not have imagined nor foreseen. For The Hightower woman was scarce to show affection to her own children, and when she did, most, to what you had witnessed, would shy away from it.

Alicent, in a rare moment of comfort, reached out and held Rhaenyra’s hand atop the table. 

It seemed to shock almost everyone there, including Rhaenyra herself, who after a moment of confusion, grasped the woman’s hand back, placing another on top as she soothed the Hightower’s knuckles with a thumb.

“Thank you, Alicent.” Rhaenyra swallowed, her chest rose and fell, and then, “Shall I see to you after?”

Alicent’s large eyes blinked at the woman beside her as she searched Rhaenyra’s face for an answer, the whole table having stilled to watch the interaction, as though something unlikely was happening, like a miracle from the Gods was unfolding right before your very eyes. 

Daemon was the only one who didn’t look hopeful at the interaction, instead, he looked rather bored. 

All waited, and although it would have only been a few seconds of pause, it felt like an eternity.

Until finally, her response came. 

Alicent breathed, “I would like that. Very much.”

Rhaenyra’s smile would be contagious, if only you didn’t feel like you shouldn’t be witnessing something that felt far more intimate than what it was. 

There was history there, that much was sure to you now, between the two women, and something that you felt made more sense when Alicent’s eyes dropped, if only for half a second, to Rhaenyra’s lips. 

Clearing her throat she stood, excusing herself with polite and poised words before she left in a hurry, flanked by Criston Cole who put a gentle hand at the small of her back, something else you had blinked at, leading her through the kitchen. Alicent’s hand lifted to her mouth as she chewed at the skin of her fingers. 

Conversation took a while to come back amongst the table, all seeming to have sensed some sort of stale mate between the two women of the house. Some sort of unlikely treaty forming between them, and a breath, a long lasting one at that, sighed into the night air. 

Jacaerys and Lucerys excused themselves for the night, pressing a sweet kiss to their mothers cheek, and the twins did the same, but to Daemon’s, who smiled lovingly up at his daughters, watching them all disappear into the house together. 

Aegon leant towards you, wine on his tongue as he whispered, “You want to get blind?”

Helaena, hearing her brothers proposition, and certainly wanting a release after what had just happened, peeked around on the other side of your shoulder, “Please.”

You laughed, watching as Daemon lifted a gentle hand and placed it on the small bump of Rhaenyra’s pregnant stomach, something you hadn’t noticed until that moment as she had leant backwards, chair pushed away from the table. She smiled lovingly at him and put her hand over his. 

Daeron stood, excusing himself, having said not much at all that evening, and left for his room, Aegon following after before casting a look back at you and Helaena, who stood and smiled at her half-sister sweetly. 

Rhaenyra you noted, looked almost sad as she gazed at her younger and only sister, but bid her a goodnight, and asked if she would like to spend some time together, to catch up, or perhaps even join her and the boys back on Dragonstone; Rhaenyra and Daemon’s estate, older than the Red Keep.

Helaena had stood quietly for a moment, shifting on her feet, but then the signature warm smile spread on her rosy lips as she nodded, turning to you to flick her head back, indicating that you were leaving. 

As you moved to leave, the deep and smooth voice of Daemon turned you around.

“Are you happy at Red Keep Law?” 

“Happy?” You asked in confusion, furrowing your brows at the two silver haired people who watched you with curiosity.

Daemon’s brows lifted, waiting for you to answer. 

“I like my job at RKL, yes. The hours are good, and it pays the bills.”

“Pays the bills.” Daemon parroted, and you wished you could kick yourself at your choice of words.

“I only mean that-“

“-No need to worry.” Daemon interrupted you, “My brothers firm is not what it used to be now that it’s ran by the Hightower’s.” His lips curled at the mention of Alicent, into what could have been said was a restrained sneer.

And although you felt the need to defend them, you had to agree. It was not what it used to be, but it wasn’t a bad change either. Sure business was slower, and their clientele had certainly changed to people who were more modest, but it was still regarded as one of the best firms.

It was just… different. 

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra came to Alicent’s defence, low warning in her voice. 

And there it was, the strong, ‘Cruel Queen’ of Law. 

You had not once seen this side of Rhaenyra through the night, and had only ever heard of her ability to cut down others in court without even truly trying.

Rhaenyra Targaryen set defence teams on fire without even breaking a sweat, and had crumbled firms to ashes under her Louboutin heel.

The couple looked at each other, soft silver hair glimmering in the candle light, and you looked at Helaena, uncertain as to what was happening. 

But Helaena looked at you in the way that she usually did, as if she already knew what was coming. You had joked with her many times that she was a witch, and she had always just said she had a strong intuition and followed her gut.

And then, three pairs of violet eyes were suddenly on you.

Had Helaena told them about Aemond?

You suddenly felt very guilty and unsure.

“From what we have been told, you’re a hard worker.” Daemon began, “Something we value at ‘Perzys Ānogār Legal’.” 

You stood straighter, and watched as Rhaenyra smiled at you reassuringly, “Your talents are being wasted at RKL.” Her eyes flicked to her husbands, then back to yours, “We want to offer you a job at our firm.”

A job.

At their firm.

At Perzys Ānogār Legal. 

Blood and Fire. 

The best of the best firms in the realm.

Rival of Red Keep Law.

Your mouth opened and then shut, unsure of what to do. You looked at Helaena, who looked at you with excitement, smile growing wider and wider each second, her pearly white teeth shining at you. 

You swallowed dryly, “I- I’m honoured.” Rhaenyra beamed, “But I’m not a lawyer, I don’t even have a law degree. I’m not even studying law.”

Daemon nodded, “You work at RKL and there seems to be no issue. But you’re thinking about it. Are you not?”

You had, in fact, thought about it.

But your time at RKL and studying made it impossible to think of a future where you could juggle law, a far more intensive degree than history, as well as a 9-5.

“I don’t think I could. I have bills to pay, and the study load would be too much-“

“-Not if you work for us.” Daemon interrupted you again, “You would be in the same position, secretary work, keeping our staff organised and tidy. And in the mean time, we would teach you. You would of course, have to begin a law degree to eventually practice and all that,” His large hand waved around as if it wasn’t a big deal, “But as it turns out, we have a position open, and from what our boys have told us, you would be an incredible edition to our team.”

Your mouth gaped as you looked at them both. 

Holy shit. 

This was-

It was-

You couldn’t even think, and Rhaenyra noticed.

“You don’t have to give us an answer straight away, but I will have Jacaerys give you our number. When you accept,” It wasn’t if, it was when you chose them, “You can let us know and we can begin onboarding you.”

“I-“ You stumbled over your words, tongue feeling like led in your mouth, “I don’t know what to say. I- Thank you. Truly. I have a lot to think about.”

“Of course.” Rhaenyra gave you a motherly smile, and Daemon simply observed you with patient, kind eyes, “I’ll let you girls get back to the others. Think about our offer. We will pay you better, train you up, and if you want to study, we can even discuss potential payment for your learnings.”

Payment-

Your head began to spin. 

Daemon laughed, not meanly, but in amusement, “You’ve short circuited her brain, my love.”

Rhaenyra swatted her husband, “Sorry. You can see how competitive we are, I suppose. I shall leave that with you to deliberate. We look forward to hearing your answer soon.”

You felt Helaena’s arm wrap around yours as she pulled you back and away, “Night 'Nyra.” She called to her sister, who said goodnight back. 

Your mind raced a million miles an hour. 

“Holy fuck.” You whispered, Helaena steering you through the kitchen and up the stairs to her room, “Hel, what the fuck? What the fuck!”

Helaena simply giggled at you. 

“What do I do? I- Thats- Rhaenyra Targaryen just offered me a job. I- I couldn’t possibly-“

“-Why not?”

Helaena pushed open her door and watched you race inside, pacing in front of the bed, “I couldn’t do that to your mother. I mean- Hel- Clearly there’s something that they- I mean- Oh my gods, I’m not even making sense. I just- What the hell?”

The silver haired woman flopped backwards onto her bed, staring up at the curtained canopy, “It's a good offer. I would take it if I were you. People would kill for that position.”

You flopped down beside her, “But Hel, it would be like betraying your mum.”

She turned on her side to face you, “No it wouldn’t. Besides, you wouldn’t have to work under Larys anymore.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes, “You’re right. But Gods, Hel. Me? A lawyer? I never would have thought that I would even have that kind of opportunity.”

“See?” Helaena nudged your shoulder, “You have to take it. Better pay, more options, plus, though me and Rhaenyra aren’t close, she’s a good person. When she takes someone under her wing, you best believe she will have your back forever. Even when you don’t deserve it.”

You frowned at the last part, but tilted your head back to stare at the canopy.

Rhaenyra was right.

You had a lot to think about. 

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

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Bold is who I cannot tag

[marmaladeinlemonade]

Event tickets in sky were never going to work anyway.

It's way too good to be true; a currency that cannot be transferred across events or into candles/hearts for the sole purpose of making event cosmetics easier to obtain, that is collected by participating in the event itself? Thats already fishy enough by tgc's standards.

Thatgamecompany has a habit of making short term solutions for long term problems because of the sheer amount of content they make yearly, leaving less room to optimize regular gameplay. ET has probably been the most apparent example of this. (MAAAAJOR YAP SESSION AHEAD!)

When event tickets were first released, I was ecstatic. I was already struggling to keep up with Days of Bloom and Mischief since I have taken many breaks from sky, but I couldn't begin to fathom how the prices may feel to a new player. I also hated picking and choosing between what items to buy simply because i didn't dedicate the past two weeks so candlerunning alone. Hopefully this new addition of ET would take off that load and i can enjoy the following events to it's fullest, and well, I did.

For the first year that is. These cosmetics that costed ET were damn near free for me. Yet, in the back of my head i always wondered what would happen the following year once these ET cosmetics came back, alongside the new ones that were to be released. Would they cost just as much ET as last year's items? Then collecting ET would only get more stressful and inflate its value. Would the past items go away? That is unfair to new players and pushes FOMO to get everything every year.

Maybe the total price could stay the same but older items depreciate each year as newer ones release, making the oldest ones the cheapest.

And to my great surprise as i look at beta logs for this year's days of summer, not a single item from the year before is under 90 candles! How could this possibly be fair to new players who are trying to enjoy sky for what it is and get items? I've seen some people argue that the player has the choice to not get all cosmetics, which is true, but I'd like to show you what thought process is implied with this system. Think:

"We know you don't fully know your way around sky's economy, or don't have the time to grind everyday, but for this year only these new items are free just by participating in the event! And if you don't, for any reason, the price of the items will be worth 3-6 hours of candlerunning on top of MORE cosmetics! But it's all up to you!"

This isn't to say us as a playerbase have zero autonomy, but i hope you can see how FOMO is enforced when you add a currency with zero value outside of an annual 2 week event that gives players a "now or never" mindset. This is great in the moment, it pushes people to participate! Yet, this ruthlessly punishes players who aren't available for any reason, even those who weren't aware of sky before joining.

Sky is still a new game. Event tickets were only introduced a year ago, but if tgc keeps going down this economic pattern then imagine the amount of cosmetics locked away from new players, or players who took breaks, because of this exponential increase in pricing!

This is a more subjective opinion- but let me be honest; these cosmetics are not worth their candle/heart prices.

I was lucky enough to get all the days of style and days of summer items from last year for ET and i barely wore them, i can only imagine ONE item from each event being rewearable. I didn't mind though because i knew the towel capes and silly glasses were nice starter items for moths, but it's not even moth friendly anymore?! In the past only items that were in high demand were priced outrageously like rhythm and lightseeker TS, and now I'm spending extra for a purple top hat that doesn't even match any of the other purples in this game☠️☠️ you're getting less bang for your buck with a 110 candle towel cape bro

And lastly, there are other issues I've seen in sky that i would say are parallel to this whole event ticket situation. The time gaps between seasons have grown significantly smaller, and each seasonal update has been saturated with glitches and disappointment. Season of the Nine-Colored Deer is another very apparent example of this for me. The castle and crescent lake is done beautifully and the quests are decent, but no one is returning to the area. The rest of the town is empty and awkward, and half the map is in a canyon where you spawn so it's already a good 2-3 minutes getting out of that area alone. The place is just rushed. Its inconvenient.

Ill be posting a poll right after this post, but me personally i would not mind having 3 seasons a year if it meant higher quality content and more breaks from events. More spirits that are well thought out, detailed seasonal quests that arent cleanups or scavenger hunts, less quantity but higher quality cosmetics and emotes, and elder appearances! It's clear that tgc has a more complex world design outside of Sky: cotl when we look at The Two Embers, but that the energy it takes to make it in game is placed elsewhere.

Thatgamecompany is pushing out more content than they ever have before and I think their work is starting to crumble under the weight.

If you made it here THANK YOU!!! you're a lifesaver, theres so much that i want to say and i really hope a lot of skids see this post so that we can get a cohesive discussion going❤️

[preqwells]

I don't know if you'd like something like this, but what about Leon with a gf who loves Sanrio? She has all sorts of merch + compares him to some of the characters ( she tells him he looks like Pompompurin when he becomes all cuddly with her in her Hello kitty themed bedroom and he takes big offence).

I'd love to see the big, buff and intimidating Leon walking hand in hand with his little way of sunshine into a Miuso or a Sanrio store...

thx luv <3

first off, thank you for ur request…. you r one of my first asks :’) <3 !! the funniest thing is imagining leon trying to get comfortable on a bed that has like 20 stuffed animals… and yes, i love stuff like this! im into collecting stuffed animals and even have sum strapped in my car lol i hope i fulfilled your request to your expectations! 

leon had never been into stuffed animals— sure, he thought they were ‘cute’, but some were even… unsettling? big, soulless beady eyes staring back at him. weird. 

that all changed when he started dating you. it wasn’t until maybe three months into your relationship he walked into your apartment, vanilla-scented candles permeating the air. he nodded in approval before he reached your room, blinking a few times. he was a bit surprised at what he saw. they were…everywhere! your blanket, on the desk, on the bed— even your keys had a little black cat on it. chococat, you’d inform him. he decided to navigate the bed, careful not to squish any of the stuffed ‘sanrios’, you called them. so here he was, a trained operative that could take someone down within a mere matter of seconds, muscles rippling under his black t-shirt he threw on this morning, surrounded by five hello kitty’s and other sanrio characters he had no idea about. 

he indulged you, letting you talk so freely about your interest in these ‘sanrio’ characters. “i know it’s like… childish—“ you’d try to downplay, unsure what leon thought about your hobby before leon interrupted you. “nah— none of that.” he’d gently reassure you, reaching for your hand as his eyes remained glued to you. everyone had their hobbies, and yours was… honestly, cute. 

leon accompanied you to the nearest sanrio store, hand-in-hand as you marveled at the ceramic figures the entire time. he couldn’t have his love go home empty-handed, right? he spoiled you rotten that day, buying you some ceramic figurines and even a few stuffed animals— he couldn’t help the way he ate up the look of adoration on your face for him. he got a few extra kisses that night.

you’d also compare him to pompompurin, which he definitely fit the description but he got so agitated when you brought it up. 

“see— look at him! he’s just a little guy. and he’s blonde, like you!” 

“sweetheart— i don’t… we look completely different! i’m more like… like… what’s it called? rilakkuma! yeah, um-- that one.” 

“leon, that’s not even sanrio!” 

by the end of the month when he learned about your sanrio obsession, he actually bought you two matching keychains and researched if there were any sanrios that were a couple— keroppi and keroleen.

banner credit: @/v6que

[valentine-writes]

their "i love you"s and other drabbles...

「 tws + notes: no tws, HEAVILY unedited, a little angst in sum partz but f it we ball (THERE'S SUMN WRONG W/ ME I NEVER DO THIS MUCH?), fluff, tried to add a lil bit of everyone, little thoughtz abt the characters,,, 」

↳ ft. ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, jessica drew, lyla, margo kess, miles morales (1610 and 42), miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, pavitr prabhakar, peter b parker, spider-man noir, and the spot/johnathan ohnn

「 gn!reader, romantic relationships <3 」

author's note: not my usual content but thought it wud b fun to whip up a few drabbles,, (´。＿。｀) diff format than usual too! all separate and stuff, w/ the characterz at the bottom being the ones the drabble applies to the most (ALL CAPZ MEANS I THOUGHT IT FIT THEM SUPER WELL!!!!) thought it wud b fun,,, altered lyrics are italicized, itz jus a pronoun change 2 make it gender neutral (❁´◡`❁) edit: my tags. do not fit. so i had to redo them. reblogz r super appreciated ^_^ i jus wanna make sure all fans of these characterz are being fed content <33

[ please don't forget about me - pompey ]

"and if you see me everyday / will I lose my shine?"

↳ always terrified of not being exciting and new to you– like one day, their appeal will fade. not like they understand what drew you to them in the first place, but they never asked. maybe you're just hanging around for the hell of it. maybe one day, they'll watch you leave and they'll have nothing to convince you to stay

"how many bad jokes will it take? / or awkward quiet times?"

↳ they wonder if they're already losing you slowly. everytime they speak to you, it's like they're trying to compensate for something. begging you to look at them– but not too close,,, just in case you notice how brutally flawed they are, beyond just the quirks you find endearing. maybe one day you'll look too deep into their eyes and you won't like what you see

▸ JOHNATHAN OHNN/THE SPOT, peter b parker

[ soft sounds from another planet - japanese breakfast ]

"i'll show you the way to hurt me"

↳ loving again is the biggest risk anyone who's been hurt like them could take. you make it worth the danger– the possibility of the pain they've grown all too familiar with. maybe for today, caution can be set aside. when it comes to you, they wouldn't mind letting their guard down.

"in search of a soft sound from another planet / in search of a quiet place to lay this to rest."

↳ they have to admit their past has burdened them in ways they can't even begin to communicate. they know you can't fix everything that has been broken in their lives. still, the comfort you provide is never taken for granted. you are their safe space– the soft sound from another planet. their quiet place to finally lay it all to rest. and suddenly, the aching in their chest doesn't eat them up inside as much as it used to.

you make it easy to love again.

▸ GWEN STACY, MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ our lullabye - miracle musical ]

"i was made for you / you were made for me"

↳ it's hard to believe that you're more than just a distant fantasy sometimes. they can't deny how much they've yearned for a love like the one you two share. something so sweet, so real. it's nothing like the movies or the fairytales, but is anything ever? even when things are messy and complicated, it's undeniable how perfect it all feels. how everything about the two of you just fits. they're inclined to thank every shooting star they've ever wished on, every birthday candle they've ever held their deepest desires in as they blew the flame out for the day you two met. by any manner of higher power or forces unseen to the human eye, they're certain fate was on their side to give them such a blessing.

"i'll love you 'till you're gone / our song goes on and on"

↳ they're determined to hold on as long as possible. all good things cannot last– but they try not to dwell on that thought. they hold onto the hope that you're the one thing that will stay. your love feels divine. radiant, in the way it overtakes them fully. they almost feel undeserving. so, no matter how small or how grand the action, they try to remind you every day, "i love you"s woven into their every being whenever you're around.

▸ lyla, SPIDER-MAN NOIR, johnathan ohnn/the spot

[ i will - mitski ]

"everything you feel is good / if you would only let you"

↳ sometimes they feel you holding back. they can't help but notice the tension in the room as you suppress the things you want to say, silence the thoughts in your head. they know it's not easy to be earnest all the time. but they love you– they care for you. and all they've ever wanted is for you to be authentic. if it's pure, how could it ever be wrong? maybe in your own time, you'll be able to unravel in front of them. they're by your side every step of the way. to finally have you open up to them– to be real, to be honest– it would mean the world to them. they want to show you they love every single part of you. they love you when you're upset, when you're crying, when you're angry– because it's you.

"so stay with me / hold my hand / there's no need / to be brave"

↳ they offer every reassurance they can give you. you no longer have to fend for yourself. those days of being alone are over. you can crumble apart if you need– there's no need for constant bravery anymore. you did such a good job picking yourself up, time and time again. now, they outstretch a hand to you, a silent way of saying, "let me help you this time."

▸ ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, JESSICA DREW, lyla, MILES MORALES (1610), PAVITR PRABHAKAR, PETER B PARKER tbh all of them but shhh

[ right side of my neck - faye webster ]

"you looked back at me once / but i looked back two times"

↳ absolutely smitten with you. it doesn't matter how hard you fell. they. fell. harder. and maybe it's not obvious to you. but they've never had someone who made them care so much. some part of them feels immature for feeling so in love,, like a school kid with a puppy crush. they find it ridiculous, how absolutely lovesick and enamoured they are with everything about you. whatever you feel and express towards them, they feel towards you three times as much. they try everyday to show it.

"the right side of my neck / still smells like you"

↳ you just seem to leave a part of you with them always. they can't ignore it– can't seem to escape your presence, even when you're not physically there. it felt like spiralling to insanity at first. but they've learned to appreciate it– find comfort in it, even. the way the smell of your shampoo lingers on the pillow they leant you when you stayed over, the way that the mug of tea (made just the way you like it) is still on the kitchen table from the morning after– you left your t-shirt once and you had to ask them directly for it back. they like keeping pieces of you near. it reminds them of how loved they are.

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, MARGO KESS, miles morales (1610 and 42), pavitr prabhakar, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ you love me - kimya dawson ]

"but when i met you, right away, i knew / you would never, ever, ever hurt me"

↳ you're used to pulling away. leave before they can leave you, before they even try to make you miss them– but the second you met them? they were insistent on proving that they were harmless. they could never dream of hurting you. and they see as you pull away, scared to get too close– and yet, every single time, they open their arms back to you.

"and the road's still long but you come along / and you hold my hand, and you understand"

↳ "when you're ready" has become second place in their favourite three word sentences. they remind you of these words constantly.

"when you're ready" means they don't mind that it's not now. ""when you're ready" means it doesn't matter how long they have to wait for you, they will. when you're ready" is another form of "i love you"

▸ MARGO KESS, MILES MORALES (1610), pavitr prabhakar, PETER B PARKER, spider-man noir

[ (you) on my arm - leith ross ]

"i wanna buy you pretty little things / and never ever lie to you"

↳ wants something simple with you. craves a form of sweet, normalcy. the mundane tasks and events of life seem far more appealing to them when you're in the picture. no, they never really imagined ever having a quiet life, yet the hope for one with you lingered. to buy you little gifts, to be the best they could possibly be to you, to drive around with you for the hell of it. they're certain anything could be heaven if you were there to accompany them.

a quiet life sounds nice.

"i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it"

↳ having you on their arm just makes them feel secure. keeping you close while showing you off to the world– showing you've got each other. they're a bit sappy for little things like this. everywhere you go, they never fail to extend an arm out to you. something about you makes them feel safer than ever.

▸ jessica drew, miles morales (1610), MILES MORALES (42), peter b parker, SPIDER-MAN NOIR

[ peach scone - hobo johnson ]

"so I fall to ground, collect myself and get ready to take over your heart / or at least your spare time"

↳ they try so incredibly hard to be the one for you. no matter what they try, they just seem to fumble and mess it up. they stumble over their words when they try to compliment you, they get weak in the knees when they try to make a move, and no matter how much they spend deliberating, and deliberating– they've got no clue how to win you over. hopefully you find their clumsy attempts endearing. they're making a fool of themself. and maybe, they haven't really said anything yet– but they're happy to at least hang around you in the meantime

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, MILES MORALES (1610), spider-man noir, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ dan the dancer - mitski ]

" he liked them more than life itself / i'm sure "

↳ he was quiet in the way he expressed his adoration. still, he did everything he could to ensure you would never go unloved. the way he looks into your eyes, taking you in like you are the loveliest thing on earth... it's only fitting. you're his world. maybe in the silent moments, when his fingers gently brush your cheek, admiring you– you'd begin to understand this.

▸ MILES MORALES (42), MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ lover // over the moon - alice phoebe lou ]

"i'm a lover / i feel it now / i'm a lover / just never knew how"

↳ they don't even try to hide how much they enjoy your company. you're special to them– why would they try to hide that? at this point, whenever you feel arms wrap around you from behind, you've learned to see their grinning face when you glance over your shoulder. maybe they've never been particularly shy about most things,, but now they're just twice as loud. it's inexplicable, the things you do to them. they hadn't anticipated being so utterly soft,,, not like they're complaining

▸ hobie brown/spider-punk, PAVITR PRABHAKAR